


Illegal Enticement Of Game

by anemic_cinema



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Sex, Angst, Awkward Dates, Awkwardness, Bisexual Male Character, Crystal Meth, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dick Pics, Dirty Talk, Friendship, Hand Jobs, Homophobic Language, Hurt feelings, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kissing, M/M, Marijuana, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Power Imbalance, Racism, Racist Language, Recreational Drug Use, Reference to Drug Use, References to Drugs, Rimming, Sex Work, Sexual Assault, Sexual Fantasy, Some Humor, after sex awkwardness, au: no walkers, blowjobs as currency, physical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1294915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemic_cinema/pseuds/anemic_cinema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What starts out as Daryl getting out of hunting fines turns into something that's a whole lot more complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LostInWonder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostInWonder/gifts).



> The last time I wrote something involving Shane and Daryl it wasn't very nice, so this is my way of making up for it. This is also for LostInWonder, who has been so sweet and so kind to my writing. You're the best!

Shane was a man willing to turn a blind eye to certain things. Like the kids who used the 7-11 parking lot to skateboard, or the gals who sold ass by the motel along route 30. As long as people weren't bothering other people, he was loath to hassle them. Living in a small town made it so it wasn't a big deal for him to do that, even though he was the law. 

But some things rubbed him the wrong way. Daryl Dixon was one of them. In the past year he'd given him at least a dozen hunting-related fines. Shane was pretty sure that if he were to check them on the database, all of them would come up as unpaid. The call that came in at 10 P.M. just before his shift was over was the tipping point. Someone complaining about a man hunting on their property. Shane didn't need to ask for a description, because he already knew it was most likely that pain-in-the-ass redneck. 

So he hopped in his cruiser, and drove over to where he knew he'd find him. At the edge of the property he was hunting on, Shane found his battered truck with a brace of squirrels in it. The cop wrinkled his nose. The guy was a walking stereotype. 

Shane stood there, waiting for him to emerge from the woods. When he did, Shane had about half a dozen fine tickets drawn up. 

“This fucking tears it Dixon, I'm sick of having to fine your dumb ass. I'm hauling you in this time.”

Daryl rolled his eyes, dropping his crossbow and the turkey he'd shot to his sides. “I'm sorry Officer Walsh.” 

“Shut the fuck up. I've had enough of your bullshit!” Shane was heated now. It was late. He was tired. He wanted to go home, shower, jerk off, then pass out, and this lippy son-of-a-bitch was preventing that. “Put your shit in your truck, and get in the damn cruiser.”

Daryl placed his ill gotten game in the back of the truck, and his crossbow in the front. “So you gonna cuff me for shootin' some game?” 

“I should. Goddamn it, this is what, the fourth time this has happened?” Shane shook the fines at him. “Why the hell can't you just listen. Hunting without a license, hunting small game at night, hunting on the lands of another, want me to go on?”

Daryl slumped against the hood of his truck. “What d'you want from me? Want me to say I'm sorry? I ain't sorry for fuckin' feedin' m'self.”

Shane pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why can't you go to the damn Krogers like everyone else does?”

The redneck glared at him. “You gonna give me the money to do that?”

“Oh, shut up.” The man was exasperating. “C'mon, lets go.” Shane gestured to the cruiser. 

“Wait.” Panic was staring to bubble up under Daryl's defiant demeanor. Spending the night in lockup was not something he wanted. Just the thought of being in a claustrophobic cell made his chest feel tight. “Look, can't we work somethin' out?”

“Oh sure, you just got done telling me you ain't even got the money to get your damn groceries so you fucking hunt for game on other people's property. Gimme a break.”

“I ain't talkin' money.” Daryl gave him a look that made it clear what he was talking about. He bit his bottom lip, waiting for the cop to answer him. It wouldn't be the first time for him, but it would be the first time he'd offered it to get out of trouble with the law. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” Shane shook his head. “What makes you think I'd accept that kind of bribe.” 

Daryl shrugged. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try. The cop looked him up and down. He was kind of cute in a filthy way. Daryl Dixon looked like the kind of guy that would fuck up your credit rating and eat you out of house and home if you gave him half a chance, but you'd gladly let him because the sex was that good. 

He was the epitome of bad decisions made in the name of good dick. But, Shane hadn't been with anyone in over a year. But, it was unethical. But, Shane would be lying if he said he hadn't jerked off to the thought of fucking this particular man before. But, it was the mother of bad ideas. 

Daryl's tongue darted out to wet his lips. Something about how nervous he looked made Shane choose the bad idea. 

“Alright. Get over here, and we'll work it out.”

A sly grin fluttered across Daryl's face. “I knew you'd be into that kind of thing.”

Shane sat at the edge of the backseat of the cruiser, his feet on the soft, wet ground. “What, being with another man?”

“Naw, doin' somethin' with a fucked up power dynamic.” Shane was about to ask where the hell Daryl had learned such an educated sounding phrase when the redneck went down on his knees in front of him. His hands ran up Shane's thighs, up to his belt buckle.

“I ain't got no slick, so it's gonna have to be my mouth or my hand.” Daryl said quietly, running his fingertips over the leather and the cheap metal of the state issued belt. “I ain't gonna let you fuck my ass dry.”

Shane blinked. The image of Daryl face down and ass up in the sheriff cruiser, ready for Shane to fuck him would definitely be an image he'd save for later. “That's fine.” He looked around in the darkness. There was no one around, and the spot was pretty isolated. “Let's just do this quick ok?”

“Fine by me.” Daryl unbuckled Shane's pants, unzipped them, and pulled them down. “You into this, huh?”

Shane didn't say anything. His hard on said plenty for him. 

“Don't worry, I ain't got diseases.” It was a little bit of an odd thing to say, but considering the reputation that Daryl's family had, it wasn't so strange. Shane had heard down the grapevine from the route 30 pros that his brother was crawling with crabs and god knows what else. Apparently they'd boycotted him, and he couldn't get serviced by any of them for love nor money. The cop didn't have time to say a smart retort about that, because Daryl pulled out his cock and began jerking it slowly. His hand was rough, but it felt good. Especially when he ran his thumb over the edge of the head, then up to the slit, pressing against it. 

“So what d'you want, my hand or my mouth?” The redneck looked up at him. In the dim light of the car, his blue eyes looked nice. Shane had never thought men could have pretty eyes, but Daryl did, despite them being too narrow and tired looking. The bags around them suggested too many late nights doing things he shouldn't be doing. Just like right now. 

“Mouth. I want your mouth.” Shane managed to get out. It was a wonder he managed that much, because Daryl's hand felt better than anything he'd had in a while. Which wasn't saying much, considering all he'd had recently was his own hand and lots of terrible porn. 

The kneeling man bent down further and began by licking a slow lick up the length of Shane's cock. The cop gripped onto the upholstery of the back seat. This was definitely better than his own hand and the porn. When Daryl slid his mouth half-way down his cock, Shane began to think of everything besides the mouth on him right then.

He thought of the paperwork he'd have to fill out when he got back to the station, the dishes he'd left in his kitchen sink, anything to save him the indignity of coming too fast. It was hard though, because Daryl was good. He'd managed to work his way down to the base, then back up, then back down again. He kept doing that, his tongue flat on the underside of Shane's cock, the head of it sliding against the back of his throat. 

Shane had to remind himself not to hold his breath, to keep inhaling and exhaling. He placed a hand on the back of Daryl's head, his fingers running through his short, dirty blond hair, but the redneck slapped it away.

“Sorry.” Shane said breathlessly. 

Daryl lifted his head a little, his tongue lapping at the head of Shane's cock. “S'ok, just don't do that.”

Shane nodded. It was then he noticed that one of Daryl's hands was between his own legs, moving in an unmistakable motion. He let out a small laugh. “Looks like I'm not the only one who gets off on a fucked up power dynamic.” 

Daryl didn't say anything to that. He just took the cop's cock back into his mouth, and kept sucking, this time with more vigor. Shane let out a quiet whimper. He was close, so damn close, and his mind was getting so clouded that he could only focus on what was in front of him in that moment. Daryl on his knees, stroking his own cock because he was getting off on having Shane's cock in his mouth. His lips wrapped around it. His tongue pressing against it. The soft grunts he was making as he took it down his throat. 

Shane's breath stopped in his throat, and his body tensed. Daryl let up on the suction just enough for it not to be painful as Shane came in his mouth. When he was certain it was over, the redneck pulled away, and spit out his load onto the ground.

“That's not very polite.” Shane said, looking down at the man between his legs. Daryl's hand was still moving, but faster now, his shoulders tensing under that ugly khaki green shirt he wore with the cut off sleeves. 

“I only swallow for people I love.” His voice had a tremor in it now, and he let out a small grunt. Shane didn't see it, but judging by the expression on his face, Daryl had just cum, hard, probably getting some on the outside of the damn vehicle. Shane felt only mild annoyance at it, tempered by his curiosity about what Daryl just said. He wondered just how much experience the redneck had when it came to things like this.

Daryl tucked himself back into his pants, and zipped them up, sitting back on his haunches. The knees of his pants were damp and stained with dirt. “So...we square?”

Shane followed suit, still a little dazed. His motions felt automatic now, like his brain had decided to fall asleep before the rest of him. “You're off the hook for now. Just don't let me catch you again.”

“Or else you'll have to take it out on my ass? Should I keep slick an' condoms in my goddamn truck just in case?” Daryl snorted at Shane's scandalized expression. “Relax, I gotcha. No more huntin' on private property.”

“No more hunting period until you get your damn license back.” Shane stood, his legs still felt wobbly. “Or at least be discreet about it you dumbass.”

Daryl nodded and stood. The moment was awkward now. Shane would have gladly reached out to give him a hug and maybe a kiss, but the redneck looked like he was ready to get the fuck out of there. 

“Pay your damn hunting fines Dixon.” Shane sighed, before getting back into the drivers seat. So much for his oath as a sheriff. He was pretty sure serving and protecting didn't involve getting blowjobs from scruffy criminals, no matter how cute they were. 

“Thought I just did.” Daryl grinned. 

Shane shook his head, put his keys in the ignition, and drove back to the station. All the while he was driving back, he kept trying to figure out just how much paperwork he was going to have to wrangle to cover this. Daryl Dixon was definitely the worst person to fuck. He brought nothing but trouble. 

However, Shane knew that if he got half a chance, he'd do it again. No question about it.


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl so far had kept his promise. Two weeks had gone by without any calls about mysterious men hunting at night on other people's properties. Shane was relieved. He didn't want to have to see him, or worse, book him. After that damn blowjob, the redneck had been on his mind to a ridiculous degree. And yes, Shane had jerked off while thinking about it. The first time was a little weird, because that blowjob hadn't come from a place of attraction but of desperation. After the twelfth time, it didn't seem like such a bad thing. 

What was more surprising was that when Shane pulled up his file on the computer, he saw that Daryl had managed to pay some of his fines off. Not any of the bigger ones, but it was a start. He stared at the surly mugshot on the screen. Maybe he was biased, but the redneck managed to look cute even under that unflattering light. 

The only thing preventing him from pulling up that damn picture every day was that the computer logged which files were pulled up, when, and by whom. That was not something Shane was prepared to explain. It was bad enough he'd scribbled down the phone number on record for Daryl. He wasn't sure why, it had been a morbid urge and he'd given in. There was no way he could call him. That would be just wrong, using his powers as a deputy to make a booty call. Even though he'd heard other deputies brag about how they've done that to hook up with women.

Shane kept the number at his house, stuck to his fridge with a magnet shaped like the state of Florida. Rick had given it to him after his last vacation there with Lori and Carl. He figured if he kept it at home, he wouldn't have the temptation to call it up. Instead he just thought about it when he was bored at the station, or in the cruiser listening to Rick complain yet again about how Lori was distant lately. 

It got to the point where it dominated his thoughts. That was when he gave in. It had been his day off, and every hour or so he found himself casually in his kitchen, looking at the number while he poured himself a glass of water, or opened the fridge for the umpteenth time hoping something he wanted to eat would magically appear in it. 

He broke down, swiped his cellphone open, and dialed the number. It probably was disconnected anyway, it wouldn't matter if he dialed it. He tapped the numbers on the touchscreen, and hit the green call icon. He brought the phone to his ear and waited. One ring. Two. Not disconnected, but it probably wasn't even Daryl's number. He could easily play it off as a wrong number. Three rings. He should really hang up. Four. He was just about to hang up when the voicemail message came on. 

“You know what to do.”

The voice was definitely Daryl's. There was a beep, and Shane hung up. His heart was beating too fast, and he had the urge to throw his phone across the room as if it had become tainted by some unholy evil. He slammed it on the counter a little too hard, and opened the fridge with a yank. He took out a beer, cracked it open, and took a long swallow. 

Of all the bad decisions he'd made in the past, this was by far the worst. That was including the one time him and Lori had groped and made out in his car when her and Rick had first started going out, and the time he'd drunkenly smacked Rick in the groin at the station's Christmas party last year. In his defense, the latter had been a dare and had gotten a lot of laughs even though Rick had had to sit on a bag of ice for the remainder of the evening. 

He grabbed the scrap of paper with that damn number on it, threw it in the sinks garbage disposal, and turned it on. The blades chewed it up, and it was rinsed away with water from the tap, ensuring he'd never be tempted by it again. 

He finished his beer, leaving the empty can on the counter. Considering his options, Shane decided that getting day drunk would probably be the best thing right now. He took another beer from the fridge, went to the living room, and sprawled out on his couch. He flicked the TV on. There was a Star Trek marathon on the SyFy channel, so he turned that on. If anything, it would put him to sleep at least. He figured he could use a good nap. He sipped his beer, and watched the action on screen with little interest. He fell asleep just as Captain Kirk was fighting some kind of lizard man on a bunch of rocks. 

The tinkling melody of his cell's ringtone in the kitchen woke him up. He scrambled to his feet, his years of work as a Sheriff's deputy making it so he answered every phone call quickly. He grabbed the phone, and swiped the answer icon.

“Hello?” His mouth was cottony from sleeping, so it sounded more like 'ello.'

“Who the hell is this?”

Confusion set in. “What?”

“You called me, who the hell is this?” 

As his brain whirred awake, he recognized the voice. It was Daryl. He considered hanging up, but chance were he'd just call him back even more pissed off.

“It's-” Shane wanted to slam his head in the damn fridge for being so stupid, “It's Officer Walsh.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“How the hell did you get my number?” Daryl sounded more amused than mad. “Lemme guess, you looked it up on yer fancy-ass sheriff's computer huh?”

Shane had no response for that.

“I'm right, ain't I? Well fuck. Yer a piece of work aintcha?”

“That's rich coming from the likes of you, Dixon.” Shane was embarrassed now, and angry at being caught. He grabbed the empty beer can off the counter, and tossed it into the recycling bin that was by the door to the garage. He needed to keep moving, otherwise god only knew what might happen.

“Yer one to talk. Yer the one who accepted a bribe. I could prolly get you in a whole lotta trouble for that shit, couldn't I? Not to mention, I don't think it's legal for you to pull this stalker-type shit to call me.”

“Go ahead, no one would believe you.” Shane wished he had something stronger than beer in the house. 

The redneck sighed. “Yeah, yer prolly right. You pigs like to stick together.” Shane felt a stab of annoyance at the insult. “So why did you call me anyway?” There was a scoff on the other line when he didn't respond. “Lemme guess, you want another go at me?”

Shane froze up, and stammered.

“Oh come the fuck on Walsh, what other possible reason could you have for callin' me?” 

“It ain't like that!” Shane managed to get out, but it didn't sound very confident. 

“Sure it is.” Daryl sounded like he was having a grand time poking at Shane's vulnerabilities. “Were you gonna ask me to come over? Or would that be too, what the fuck, uh, indiscreet?” 

“No!” Shane considered it though. The neighbors on either side of him probably wouldn't care, but the old man across the street would probably notice. He was always looking out at what everyone else was doing when he was working on his old Winnebago. 

“Oh, so you wanna do it over the phone then? That's fine to, I can do that for ya. Hell, it won't even cost ya ignoring any fines or anything like that.” Daryl sounded way too cavalier about the whole thing. “You gonna ask me what I'm wearin'?”

“Oh my god, that's not why I called.”

“Then why the fuck didya call me? Stop beatin' around the bush, Walsh. If that ain't the reason, then come out an' say why you'd look up my damn phone number an' call me.” Daryl was starting to sound annoyed.

“I...I don't know, ok, I don't know why the fuck I called you.”

“Besides for some ass?”

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah, you did. My mouth anyways. Do you often accept sexual favors in return for lookin' the other way when people break the law?”

“Oh my god.” Shane ran his hand through his hair nervously. His forehead was starting to feel damp. “I'm gonna hang up.”

“Go 'head, I got better shit to do than to entertain yet another repressed asshole.”

“Wait, what?” Shane was in deep now. “What the hell do you mean by 'repressed asshole?'”

“I mean you dumbass. You wouldn't be callin' me up if you weren't.”

“Hey, I'm not repressed. I know I'm bisexual goddammit.” Why he was sharing this with Daryl when he should be hanging up, he wasn't sure.

“Oh really? Atta boy, way to admit it. Most of the guys I've sucked off don't admit as much.”

“Christ, don't tell me you do that kind of shit to get out of trouble all of the time?”

“Naw, mostly for money.”

Shane's eyes went wide.“What?”

“Hey I gotta eat don't I? Especially now since I can't hunt.”

“Are you blaming me for driving you to-” Shane lowered his voice unconsciously, even though he was alone in his own house. “prostitute yourself?”

“Not really, I been doin' it for a while now. It's easy money. Just put an ad on Craigslist, and bang, you got yerself married guys creepin' on the down-low linin' up around the corner for whatever.” Daryl was laughing, as if he was terribly clever for doing it. “Man, I could tell ya stories of some of the fucked up, deviant shit I've done to those guys. If any of them would talk 'bout it, they'd prolly recommend me. Apparently I'm pretty damn good. What do you think?”

Shane thought back to the incident a few weeks ago. “I'd give you that.” 

“Thank you Officer. If you thought that was good, you should see some of the other shit I can do.” 

“Please, I wouldn't fuck you on a bet.” Shane scoffed, trying to play it cool, he paced from the kitchen to the living room and back again. “You probably have an assfull of the clap.”

“Like I said, I ain't like my brother. Jesus, d'you think I let them Craigslist bastards fuck me raw? Hell no! I make 'em wear rubbers even for blowjobs.”

“Your sympathy for them is touching.” 

“Fuck sympathy, I'm tryin' to make a livin'.” 

“So are you just in it for the money?” Shane was genuinely curious now.

“Mostly. What, you want some sob story? Oh poor me, havin' to sell ass to make ends meet. Next thing, you'll be talkin' to me all earnest like, tellin' be how I need to get back on the right side of the law, get right with God, all that bullshit. Fuck that, I do whatever the fuck I want to do. It's easy work for easy money.”

“I'm just curious, that's all.” Shane was pacing his living room now. He didn't like how the conversation was going, but he couldn't hang up.

“Alright, ya got me Officer. I like suckin' cock. I like fuckin'. I like getting' fucked. That's my confession, and I'll sign that shit if you want me to. If you really want me to, I can tell you everythin' I've done, and I won't skimp on the details.”

Hearing him say those words so casually made Shane's cock twitch. He didn't realize that he'd been quiet until he heard Daryl's voice again.

“You like hearin' me say that, huh?” His tone was a little gentler, less mocking now.

Shane sighed, and gave in. “Maybe.”

“Maybe? There's plenty more I can tell ya.”

Shane fell back onto the couch. “Like what.” 

“Like how much I enjoyed havin' yer cock down my throat.” The redneck's voice was low, and his backwoods accent actually sounded kinda sexy. 

“I knew that.” He was trying to keep his cool, despite Daryl making him flush.

“Yeah? How?”

“You were jerking yourself off while you were doing it.” 

“Aw, you remembered. That's sweet. Bet you thought about it when you jerked off afterwards, didn't ya? Did it make you cum?”

Shane bit his bottom lip, his hand cupping his growing erection through his sweatpants. “Yeah.”

“You doin' that right now?” 

“No.” The cop paused. “Not yet.”

“You hard?”

Shane hesitated again. “Yeah...”

“Good, so am I. I guess I'm just a fucked up slut, because talkin' to you got me stiff as hell.” He heard a soft grunt on the other end of the line. “You got me wantin' it Walsh. I'm rubbin' my dick through my jeans cause I want it so bad.”

“Fuck.” That image was really, really ridiculously hot. So much so that Shane's free hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats to take hold of his cock. He hadn't bothered with underwear because he'd just planned to hang out around the house. 

“C'mon Officer, talk to me. I'm touchin' myself thinkin' 'bout having yer cock in my mouth. You touchin' yerself yet?” 

“Yeah. Jesus Christ, you got a filthy mouth.”

Daryl chuckled on the other end of the conversation. “And it gets you off, don't it.” There was a rustling on the other end of the line. “Sorry, damn pants were getting' too bindin'.” He sighed softly. “That's much better.” There was a soft groan that made Shane grab onto his cock tighter. “Much better than doin' it alone, dontcha think? No wonder you wanted to call me up. So, you want me t'come over or what?”

“So you could give me the Craigslist treatment?” 

Daryl laughed. “Depends what you want. I think I'd let you fuck my ass. I been thinkin' 'bout that. Havin' that big cock of yers inside me. You pushin' me up against a wall, and fuckin' me slow and deep.” Shane heard him breathe in sharply. “Fuckin' me 'til I can't stand. If I wasn't holdin' this damn phone I'd probably have a coupla fingers up my ass right now 'cause I want it so bad.”

“Fucking hell.”

“C'mon, you wanna see that, don't you? You wanna watch me fuck myself? Or d'you wanna fuck me?”

“Both.” Just the thought of Daryl fingering himself was making Shane's mouth water, and any sense of propriety he might have been holding onto was discarded. If the redneck wanted this, he'd give it to him. “I'd do it too, I'd bend you over and fuck you just how you want me to. I've thought about doing that so many times.”

“I bet. I bet every time you've pulled me over or given me a ticket you went home after and jerked off thinkin' about teachin' me a lesson.” Daryl's voice was getting breathy, and it was a massive turn on.

Shane's hand was moving fast, and he could feel precum making the tip of his cock wet. “Yeah, I've though about bending you over the damn cruiser and fucking your ass until you learn your damn lesson.”

That was something Daryl must've liked, because the moan on the other line was loud. “C'mon, you can give more detail than that. Tell me how you'd fuck me.” His breathing was heavy, the noise of each exhale getting slightly distorted through the cell phone connection. 

Shane tried to focus, slowing his hand so he could get the words out, so he could translate all the dirty things he'd thought of doing to Daryl from images in his head into words. 

“I'd shove you against the hood of the cruiser so your face was down on it, and your ass was sticking out, so I could pull your pants down to your ankles. I'd slick myself up and slide into you real slow like.” There was a grunt on the other end of the line, and Shane grinned. “But it wouldn't be slow for long. You can take it good and hard, can't you? That's what you want, isn't it?”

“Fuck!” Daryl was sounding shaky, which was good because Shane was starting to ache from the friction. “Yeah, just like that.”

“Then that's the way I'd fuck your ass.” A throb coursed through Shane's cock. Saying the words out loud felt strange, but it was so good. “I'd fuck you hard until you'd legs would give out and you'd cum all over yourself like the cockslut you are.”

Daryl's reaction to the last part was sudden. There was a choked moan, followed by heavy panting. “Jesus Christ, you just made me cum all over myself.” He gave a small laugh, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. 

Shane pictured it. Daryl sitting in whatever lousy place he shared with his brother, cock out, splattered with cum, trying to catch his breath. All messed up because of him. That's what did it for Shane. He went quiet as he came, biting down on his lower lip hard. Normally he'd have tissues or something to wipe himself with, but he was too spent to even consider getting up. He wiped his hand on his ratty t-shirt, laundry needed to get done anyway. 

“You still there?” Daryl's voice sounded relaxed now. 

“Yeah.”

“You enjoy that?” Maybe he meant to come off as cocky, like he knew that Shane was wrapped around his little finger. But instead it sounded genuine. It was sweet.

“Let's just say I'm a goddamn mess because of you.” Literally and figuratively.

Daryl laughed again. “Good.” He paused, as if he was waiting for Shane to say something. The cop had no idea what to say, so the redneck just sighed and spoke again.

“So, d'you wanna do this for real next time.”

“What do you meant?” 

“Instead of fuckin' over the phone fuck in real life, jackass.” Shane could picture Daryl rolling his eyes. 

“Where?”

“I dunno, a motel? Yer house? I don't think you wanna see what goes on up in mine. Besides, Merle don't like it when I bring guys home to fuck. He says I'm too goddamn loud. Whatever.” 

“Fair enough...” It was still early afternoon, and Shane had no plans. So he decided to be bold. “How about tonight? You free tonight?”

Again Daryl paused. “Yeah, I'd like that.” He sounded kinda shy now, and it made Shane's stomach jump.

“Come by around nine? We don't have to, you know, do anything. I just wanna see you.” 

“Pfft, that's what they all say.” There was that sarcastic, bratty tone Shane knew too well. “I'll be there. You better have something to eat.”

“I will. My address is 57 Oakwood Drive, you know where that's at?”

“Yeah, I'll figure it out.”

“Alright...well...see you then.”

“Ok. Bye.”

There was a moment of awkwardness with neither of them hanging up, until Shane did it first. The TV was still on, and Shane hadn't even noticed. He grabbed the remote with his clean hand and clicked it off just as Spock was making a sarcastic dig at McCoy. 

Stripping off his cum stained shirt, he went through the door in the kitchen that led to the garage. He had a strong urge to call Daryl back and tell him not to come. Logic dictated that it was a terrible idea. If anyone saw Daryl shitty truck in front of his house, they'd have questions. But his dick wasn't dictated by logic, and all it wanted was to see that damn redneck in person again. 

He ran back inside for his laundry basket, and began throwing things into the washer. Might as well get it done now, so he could look halfway presentable when Daryl got there.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: homophobic language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bright blue meth is a Breaky Bad reference, which was given a nod in season 2 when Daryl pulls out Merle's drug stash, and you can see a bunch of blue crystals.

“Where the fuck are you goin'?” Merle didn't bother looking up from the bag of bright blue meth that he was portioning out into smaller baggies. The shit sold like hotcakes, which was why he'd given Daryl the money to pay off some of his hunting fines. 

“I'm gonna go get laid.” Daryl combed his fingers through his hair. He'd washed it just for the occasion. He was wearing his pants that had the least rips in them and the new red and black plaid button up shirt he'd shoplifted from the Salvation Army. That was as dressy as it got for him.

His brother shook his head. He didn't get why his brother liked going with men, not when there was so much fine pussy to be had in the world. But if anyone besides himself were to say anything about it, he was the first to bust skulls. No one got to talk shit about his brother but him.

“Just make sure he wears a rubber. I don't need you catchin' the AIDS or whatever fuckin' disease you fags get.” 

Daryl kicked the table as he walked by it, making Merle spill the crystal he'd carefully measured out.

“Motherfucker!” 

“Don't wait up, asshole.” Daryl scurried out the door and hopped into his truck before his brother could run out of the house to get revenge. He drove off, occasionally checking the scrap of paper with directions on it. He'd mapped out the deputy's address earlier. It was funny, but he actually started to feel nervous as he turned onto Oakwood Drive and began looking for number 57. When he found it, he drove down a little further. The guy probably wouldn't care for Daryl's truck sitting in his driveway. 

He sat in the parked car, trying to work up the nerve to do it. It was one thing to blow the guy in the woods, or to have phone sex with him. Going to his house felt weird. Daryl wasn't used to guys actually doing that for him, inviting him in like that. Not the men he'd fuck for quick cash, but the men he wanted to get with out of some kind of feeling. He was used to the old “fuck-and-run” routine, and this didn't feel like that at all. 

He checked the chest pocket of his shirt. Daryl has stashed his cigarettes and some condoms in there, he just hoped Officer Walsh would have some lube. He locked the truck, and casually made his way up to the house, jingling his car keys in his pocket. Pressing on the doorbell, the redneck shifted from foot to foot, bouncing on the heels of his boots, and cracked the knuckles of his fingers. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this wound up over a lay. 

The deputy opened the door. Daryl gave him a grin. The guy had one of those slightly fucked up, ugly faces that were hot as hell. 

“Evenin' Officer.” Daryl slipped into the charming routine. He was used to turning it on for the guys who paid him for sex. It was amazing what you could get if you gave a smile and some sweet sounding words. 

“Hey, uh, come in.” The redneck saw his eyes dart around, like he was afraid that someone would notice Daryl on his doorstep. Other people might have been hurt by that, but Daryl was used to being the one who people liked to fuck in secret. 

“So this is what a deputy's salary buys huh? Not bad.” Daryl looked around. The house wasn't very big. The front door led into a living room. He could see a small dining room and a kitchen just beyond it. There were stairs that led up to the second floor, presumably to a bedroom, maybe two. The guy lived in a lot more comfort than he did. 

“I guess.” He was just standing awkwardly by the door.

“You look weird out of uniform.” That broke the ice. 

“Shut up.” The other man smiled at him. “Do you want something to drink?”

Daryl considered asking for a beer, but thought better of it. He wanted to be sober, at least for this time. “I wouldn't mind a glass of water, Officer Walsh.”

“Daryl, just call me Shane, ok?”

“What if I like callin' you Officer?” 

Shane sighed. “Well I can't control the weird shit you're into.” He walked to the kitchen, Daryl trailing behind him. It was funny to him how little clutter there was. At the place he shared with Merle, every surface was covered with useful and useless junk. He let his fingers trail over the dining table. It was obviously seldom used judging by how nice it's surface was. It was real wood too, not that pressboard bullshit that gave you splinters if you just looked at it wrong. 

“Here you go.” Shane handed him a glass of water. Daryl took it, his thumb running over some water droplets on the outside of it. He took a small sip of it, still looking around. The redneck could feel the other man's eyes studying him, trying to size him up.

“Relax Shane.” Daryl murmured. “It's gonna be better for the both of us if you relax.”

“Sorry, it's just-it's been a while.” 

“I can tell. Hell, I could tell when I gave you that damn blowjob. You shot yer load quicker than a high schooler.” Daryl snickered, and Shane actually laughed at little. That was good. Even though Daryl was usually taciturn, he could turn on the charm and the bullshit real snappy like. It was a survival technique, and it had served him well. 

“Yeah, well, that'll happen when you don't get laid for a long-ass time.” Shane jammed his hands into the back pockets of the jeans he was wearing.

“Apparently.”

The other man just shrugged. He didn't want to go into details, and that was fine by Daryl. He wasn't sure he really cared about it. He drained the rest of the water, and put the empty glass down on the unused dining room table. 

“Show me the upstairs.”

Shane nodded, and again led the way. There was a bathroom, a small bedroom that was used as an office, and a master bedroom upstairs. Daryl felt his heart beat a little faster. It had been a while for him too. He hadn't gotten any Craigslist tricks in a while, and he'd gotten sick of trying to find someone nice amongst all the assholes. He'd even let Merle set him up with an old prison buddy of his, but that had been disastrous. Daryl had gone out on one date with him, and when they'd fooled around the guy had been a little bit too into calling Daryl a fag and talking about how he was gonna treat him like the bitches in prison. 

Needless to say, Daryl didn't stick around to find out what exactly he meant by that. He'd told Merle about it, and to Merle's credit, he'd gone to see the guy to have a little talk. The talk apparently had involved a broken bottle and fists, and the last Daryl heard, the guy had left town out of fear that Merle was going to do more than just “talk” to him for mistreating his brother. This in contrast was kinda nice, even though Shane's method of getting a hold of him was a little creepy. Still, it was nice to feel wanted by someone who at least seemed to have his shit kind of together.

His bedroom was spare. There was a bed, a dresser, and a pretty nice looking flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. Daryl sat on the bed. It was one of those real nice memory foam situations. His mattress was lumpy and full of broken springs that could poke at you if you moved wrong. 

“Nice bed.”

“Thanks.” Shane was standing, looking so anxious it made Daryl feel some tenderness towards him. Sure he was an officer of the law, and if there was anyone Daryl hated with a passion it was those people, but he was cute. 

“C'mere.” Daryl beckoned to him and patted the space next to him on the mattress. This time he was going to be in control. Shane sat next to him, but wasn't looking at him. 

“Look, if you don't wanna do nothin', that's cool.” Daryl realized that there was a real possibility that this was a mistake, and that Shane would ask him to leave at any minute. He braced himself for disappointment.

Shane relaxed a bit. “I just don't want you to think I'm the kind of guy that does this, like, use their powers of authority to get laid and shit.”

Daryl shrugged. “Does it really matter what I think?”

“Well, yeah. If I'm gonna fool around with you it does.”

“That's a first for me then.” Daryl murmured. He rested his hand on Shane's knee. “Look, it's no big deal if we don't do nothin'. I brought the rubbers just in case though. You better have some lube or somethin'.”

Shane slid his hand up Daryl back, and squeezed the back of his neck. They sat side by side, Daryl's hand remaining on the other man's knee as Shane stroked and rubbed his neck. The unease and nervousness gradually diminished in the both of them. The dark haired man inched closer, so that their hips were touching. He used his hand to turn Daryl's head towards him, and went in for a kiss. Daryl responded by gripping the back of Shane's head and kissing him back hard. His tongue slipped into the other man's mouth, and Shane felt it drag against his molars. The redneck kissed him like he wanted to be kissed, deep and sloppy, promising exciting things beyond illicit blowjobs and phone sex.

They kissed, their breathing labored and awkward as their mouths sucked and lapped at each other. The last time Shane had made out with anyone like this was over a year ago. She'd been a great kisser, and the sex that had followed had been wonderful and healthy and mutually satisfying. This was completely different. The gender thing wasn't even a factor. Everything about Daryl was terrible and unhealthy and dangerous. He was the last thing Shane needed in his life. He was complicated, smelled like cheap cigarettes and the woods, and his brother was probably the one who'd been selling meth to the high school kids.  
.  
Daryl was also an incredible kisser, had a filthy mouth, and, judging from the bulge, was hung like a motherfucker. Shane wanted him like you'd want junk food, booze, and daytime TV talkshows. Something sleazy and delicious to fill you up. Something to make you feel good. 

Daryl moved and straddled Shane's lap. He couldn't understand the circumstances that had led him to this bedroom, to this man that was currently grabbing his ass with his strong hands. It was a little embarrassing to admit, but he'd wanted this from the first time the deputy had fined him for hunting outside of the permitted season. He was a little younger than him, definitely stronger, and looked like he was the kind of guy that would wine and dine you before fucking you like you were the nastiest slut on earth. 

The redneck had lost count of the times he'd jerked off thinking of how this very moment would go. Now that it was happening, he was at a loss. Reality was harder to deal with than fantasy. Grabbing onto Shane's hair, he moved his hips against him. He could feel the other man's hard-on, and it stirred something frenzied within him. 

“You wanna fuck me?” Daryl whispered breathlessly. He didn't care that it came out as a plea rather than a challenge. 

“Oh Jesus.” Shane squeezed his ass hard. “Yeah, oh Jesus Christ.” The deputy latched onto his neck and started to suck there. 

“Watch it.” Daryl said with irritation. “I don't want no hickeys.” 

Shane let up, but kept mouthing at his neck. Daryl tugged his head back.

“Take yer goddamn clothes off.” He punctuated the statement by rubbing himself against Shane's thighs. “And get the slick.” He let the deputy's hair go, and stood up. Shane followed, and ran to the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. While he did that, the redneck undressed down to his white A-line shirt, got the condoms out of his shirt pocket, and sprawled back on the bed. The covers felt like they were made out of nice cotton, and they were in good condition. Not frayed or threadbare in any spots. When Shane walked back in, bottle of lube in hand, Daryl had settled in with his back against the pillows. 

He felt self-conscious all of a sudden. Half-dressed, his dick hard and resting against his stomach, while Shane just stood there staring. 

“C'mon man,” Daryl gave a nervous chuckle, “we gonna do this or what?”

Shane tossed the lube onto the bed, and kept staring at him as he took off his clothes, leaving them in a heap by the foot of the bed. Daryl silently cursed him for being in much better shape than him. He'd never been one to want sixpack abs, but looking at Shane, he wondered if he shouldn't start doing some sit ups. It was obnoxious how the other man was in such good shape.

As he crawled up the bed, Shane looked at Daryl with a questioning expression.

“What?” The redneck did not like anyone looking at him like that.

“Thought you were gonna take your clothes off.” Shane tugged at the edge of Daryl's shirt, and, once again, he slapped the deputy's hand away. 

“It stays on.” There was no reason to show him everything yet.

“Ok, sorry.” Shane reached up and stroked Daryl's arm. “Whatever makes you comfortable.” He sounded apologetic, and the redneck felt another stab of tenderness towards him. 

“Don't worry 'bout it.” Daryl pulled him into another kiss, and their naked bodies pressed together. Shane's cock rubbed up against his leg, and the redneck shifted a little so it could rub against his cock instead. The contact was perfect, and Daryl imagined they could easily get each other off like this. But he didn't want it like that. He wanted to have Shane inside of him.

“Get on yer back.” He pushed Shane away a little, and the dark-haired man did as he was told. Daryl tore open one of the condoms, and rolled it down the deputy's cock. It twitched a little, so Daryl gave it a few strokes. 

“Looks like it's dyin' to get inside me.”

“It is.” Shane bit his bottom lip. He was glad that he'd jerked off earlier now, because if he hadn't he would not have lasted this long. 

Daryl coated it with lube before pushing two slick fingers inside of himself. He didn't like getting fingered before getting fucked, but he did want to be a little prepared. Shane just kept staring at him like he didn't quite believe that this was all happening. The redneck smirked as he straddled him, and positioned himself over the other man's cock.

“You been wantin' this huh?” He slowly sank down on it, sighing a little as his hole stretched to accommodate the girth of Shane's cock. The prone man's face scrunched into a rictus of concentration and ecstasy. Once Daryl had his cock halfway inside of himself, the redneck moved his hips, sliding up and then back down a little further on it. 

“Is it as good as you hoped it would be Officer?” Daryl kept moving up and then down on it, each time getting closer to taking it all the way in. 

Shane's hands were gripping onto his thighs hard enough to turn the flesh red. “Holy shit.” His breathing was heavy and choked sounding. “Holy shit.”

The redneck sped up a little. “You like that? You like it when I ride yer big, hard cock?” He leaned forward and braced his hands on Shane's shoulders. He couldn't help the dirty talk that spilled out of him while fucking. At first it had been just another thing that helped him get more money out of men, but now it came kinda naturally. Besides, he got a kick out of seeing men's reactions when he let loose with that. It was like they didn't expect him, quiet, kind of reserved Daryl, to start going on and on about how good that felt or how much he liked this, etc. That element of surprise kept him feeling in control.

Shane didn't, or rather couldn't respond. He could barely even look up at the redneck. All that mattered was the feeling of being inside of him, his weight on his hips and pelvis, his hands pushing his shoulders into the mattress. Daryl grinned and kept going, shifting occasionally to find better angles. Once he found the right one, the one that would ensure that Shane's cock would put some pressure on his prostate, he rode it good and hard. 

The deputy under him was a goner now, turned into a thing that couldn't speak or think of anything other than how good it felt to be inside Daryl. It was just what the redneck had hoped to achieve. Shane wasn't even aware of how loud he'd been moaning until he came, and a shockingly loud cry echoed in the room. Daryl just kept smiling as he shifted off of Shane's cock. He laid on his back, his hand lazily stroking his own cock as he looked the other man over. Shane looked wrecked: sweaty, flushed, his chest heaving with each breath. He might not have had sixpack abs, but Daryl at least knew he could fuck like a champ, and that was good enough for him. 

“Holy shit.” Shane pulled off the full condom and tied it off. He got up to throw it out, his steps a little wobbly. Daryl watched him go to the bathroom to toss it, and wondered if he could get himself off in the time it would take the other man to do that. 

He was starting to feel that familiar unease. You never could tell how some men could get after an orgasm. Some just wanted to sleep it off, other wanted cuddles, some...well...some got weird. Shane didn't look like the kind that got weird, but Daryl didn't know him that well. He already didn't trust him that much because he was in law enforcement. Guys in that field tended to have chips on their shoulders and were quick to get rough. 

Shane came back to the bed, still looking a little dazed. He looked down at Daryl's erection and frowned. “You didn't cum yet?”

“Nah, s'ok though. I can get myself off.”

“Oh.” Shane looked disappointed. “Do you want help, or...”

Daryl smiled, this time it was a small, uncontrolled one. “Yeah, if you wanna.” He reached out and brought Shane in close with one hand as the other kept stroking his cock. 

“What do you want me to do?” Shane was placing little kisses up and down his neck now, and it was making the redneck sigh.

“Hmm, how about you use your fingers?” Daryl spread his legs. “I'm already slicked up for it.”

Shane nodded and reached down between his legs, his palm cupping the space between his balls and his hole. “How many?”

“Two's fine.” Daryl felt oddly touched by Shane's questions. A lot of the people he'd fucked didn't show that much consideration. It was a nice change of pace. When Shane pushed in the requested two fingers he arched into it, making them curl up to the right spot. The dark haired man had obviously done this before, because he found his prostate and began stroking it lightly with his fingertips.

“Yeah...like that.” Daryl closed his eyes and moved his hand faster. His head lolled to the side, and Shane went back to kissing his neck. He remembered the redneck's admonishment from earlier, and consciously prevented himself from sucking on it. 

It was way sweeter than what Daryl had expected, but he didn't mind. Between Shane's fingers and his own hand, he came easy, his hand covering the head of his cock and cum seeping between his fingers. As it happened, Shane managed to snake an arm underneath his shoulder, and pulled him close. He was nuzzling the side of his face, and Daryl could feel his stubble and his hot breath on his cheek. When he turned to look at the other man, Shane kissed him. 

'Ain't you sweet.' Daryl though. It was a little worrisome. He knew himself too well. Anytime someone was even remotely kind or gentle towards him, he'd fall head over heels. The problem was, no one stayed that way for long. 

“Lemme get you a towel or something.” Shane murmured, pulling his fingers out slowly. 

“Thanks.” Daryl had been hoping he'd offer to do that. “I don't wanna get cum on yer nice sheets.” 

Shane laughed at that, and brought him a damp hand towel to clean himself up. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching the redneck. Daryl wasn't sure he liked how tender his gaze was. 

“You gonna feed me or what?” He said, trying to sound gruff, but instead sounding bratty.

Shane laughed quietly and shook his head. “Sure, you good with pizza?” 

“Sure. Oh, order it from Pizza Stop, the delivery boy there's cute.”

Shane gave him a look of disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” Daryl sat up and gave him a crooked grin. “We could invite his ass in, tip him with sex, just like in a porno.” He laughed when Shane's face betrayed how scandalous he thought the suggestion was. “I'm kiddin'. Their pizza is good.” 

“Ok, I'll call it in.” Shane pulled on his underwear and his jeans.

“Pass me my shirt willya?” Shane tossed it to him and he dug out his cigarettes. 

“If you're gonna smoke can you do it in the backyard? Please?”

Daryl raised his hands in surrender, and slipped his shirt back on. 

**

The redneck sat in the backyard smoking his second cigarette under the dim security light. Shane's backyard was small, and surrounded by a tall wood fence. It was just an expanse of grass framed by bushes. Nothing special. 

He breathed in the last drag and crushed the butt on the concrete of the steps, flicking it away once he was sure it was out. Going back into the house felt a little strange. Shane had gone back upstairs after ordering the pizza, ostensibly to lay back down and try to recover from what Daryl had done to him. The redneck walked into the empty kitchen, and turned off the outside light. He slid his bare feet over the linoleum, feeling the small bumps on it's otherwise smooth texture. This house felt so strange. It didn't feel homey. It was nice, way nicer than where he lived, but it felt impersonal. 

He grabbed the glass from the dining room table that he'd used, and filled it up with water from the sink. Carrying it with him, he examined the dining room. There were some pictures on the wall, what was probably Shane's folks, a picture of Shane in a fishing boat with someone that Daryl recognized as another deputy. Grimes, that was his name. He'd arrested Merle a couple of times. Merle hated him, Daryl didn't have any strong feelings either way. His brother earned the trouble he got into. 

The doorbell rang, and Daryl heard a shout from upstairs.

“My wallet's by the door, can you get that please?”

“Sure.” Daryl put down his glass, and opened the front door. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face when he saw the slight man with the adorable face under the baseball cap standing there holding the pizza box.

“What's goin' on, Korea?”


	4. Chapter 4

The young man stood in the doorway, mouth open wide. 

“What the fuck?”

“You weren't expectin' the likes of me to be here didya?” 

Glenn looked him up and down, looking somewhat incredulous. “You don't live here, you live out on Sherman Road. What the fuck dude?” 

“Yep. I'm just here as a guest.” Daryl raised and lowered his eyebrows, and Glenn let loose with a braying laugh.

“Oh my god, so this guy's what?” He lowered his voice. “Customer? Boyfriend?” 

Daryl shook his head, grabbed the wallet by the door, and dug out a twenty and a five. “Neither.” 

“I'm kinda jealous. You get laid more than anyone has a right to.” Glenn handed him the pizza. “That's fifteen dollars and twelve cents.” 

“Here, keep the change.” Daryl handed him the money. “Why the fuck're you wearin' that stupid ass baseball cap? It looks fuckin' terrible on you, and I thought I done told you to throw it out in the garbage where it belongs.”

“Fuck you Daryl. It's called personal style.”

“It's called you ain't got none, Korea. I thought guys like you were supposed to be all GQ-stylish and shit.” 

Glenn flipped him off and counted the money. “Wait, this is too much.”

Daryl waved him away. “It's on the other guy's dime, enjoy it.”

“Thanks. I'm working the register tomorrow, come and hang out or something.” Glenn tucked the money away. “Asshole Terry isn't working, so I can hook you up with freebies.” 

“Sounds good. I'll tell you all the gory details tomorrow, ok?”

“Shit, I'm afraid already. Bye.”

Daryl closed the door, and watched Glenn walk back to his car through the peephole. He'd befriended him about a year ago, after Merle had threatened to kick his ass for being late delivering pizza. He'd been high on something or other, and the small annoyance of less than hot pizza had set him off. Daryl had knocked him back into the house, and payed Glenn while apologizing profusely about it.

After that, Daryl always went to the Pizza Stop personally to get pizza for himself and his brother, so that there would be no risk to the younger man. He ended up talking to him, and selling him weed from time to time. Glenn was nice to him, and hooked him up with free drinks when he hung out at the restaurant. Sometimes, if his manager Terry wasn't there, he'd slip Daryl a free slice of cheese pizza. 

Sometimes Glenn would take smoke breaks just to hang out with Daryl in the alley behind the restaurant. The redneck had his cigarettes, and Glenn had his spliffs. Turned out they had a couple of things in common. They both loved horror movies, especially real gory ones, they both liked to smoke weed, though Glenn definitely smoked more than Daryl did, and they were both queerer than three dollar bills. When they met, Glenn had been dating a real sweet girl named Maggie, but she lived a few hours away, and the distance ended up being too much. Daryl had made eyes at him then, because what the hell. Sure he was kind of young, but he was real cute and actually nice to him. But either the kid was dense, or just not interested, because he hadn't picked up on the vibes that Daryl had put out at all. 

Despite that failed flirtation, the redneck still liked being around him. They'd hung out at Glenn's apartment a bunch of times even. The kid knew all about Daryl selling ass, and didn't judge him for it. He always told him to be careful though, and passed along free condoms and dental dams to him from a friend of his who worked at a free clinic. That was as close to love and caring as Daryl figured he was going to get. 

The pizza had come with a bag with two paper plates and some napkins taped to the top of the box. Daryl brought the whole thing upstairs to the bedroom. Shane was sitting up in the bed, watching the eleven o' clock news on his TV. They ate silently, watching the TV as it announced all the lousy things happening locally and across the country. Daryl barely paid attention, and kept sneaking glances at the other man. 

Once the news finished, The Simpsons came on. It was the episode about Lisa needing braces. They laughed at the jokes, and it felt normal. After The Simpsons there was a late night movie that neither of them cared to watch, so Shane turned off the TV. 

“So...did you want to stay the night?” Of everything that Daryl had been expecting, this was not one of them.

“Naw, better not. I should be gettin' home. Besides, I didn't bring my toothbrush.” He gave the other man a crooked smile.

“Alright then.” Shane took the box of pizza and accompanied Daryl downstairs. He shoved the box in the fridge, and went to see the redneck off at the door.

“I had a good time, Officer Walsh.” Daryl tugged at Shane's T-shirt. “Hell, I might be up to doing it again sometime.”

“I'd like that.” Shane hesitated, then went in for a goodbye kiss. They allowed it to linger, for their lips to meet and meet again. Daryl felt good about it, like this might be something worthwhile. When they pulled apart, Shane gave his shoulders a squeeze. 

“Call me, or text me, whenever.”

“Even when yer at work?” 

“If you want to.”

“What if I wanna send you dirty pictures.” Daryl chuckled.

Shane sighed and smiled at him. “Sure. I'll just make sure to only read your texts when I'm someplace private.”

“Fair enough.” Daryl all of a sudden wished he had agreed to stay the night. Maybe next time. “I'll seeya when I seeya.” With that, he walked out of the deputy's house and into the cool Georgia night. 

When he started his truck, a song that he actually liked came on to the local hard rock station. As he drove down the street, be began to sing along. Daryl couldn't sing for the life of him, but it didn't stop him from doing it anyway. When the second verse hit, he was shouting along as loud as he could.

“And for a moment I don't even care  
Until I feel his breath at my neck  
And maybe even you can feel it too  
He's on a strike and looking at you”

After that one finished, a Black Sabbath song came on. Daryl considered it a sign that whatever had transpired that night had to be good. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this happy, and he shouted along to the words to “Fairies Wear Boots.” He did that to every song that came on, even the shitty ones.

Even seeing the beat up Camaro parked in front of the house didn't phase him, despite the fact that it meant one of Merle's many asshole clients were visiting for their fix of Sky Blue. He just walked in, ignored the tweakers on the couch, and went to his tiny room. He had to keep it locked, because he could never tell what kind of people would come over to the house.

He only had two things of real value: a shitty laptop that he'd gotten at a pawn shop and his crossbow. While the computer was useful, he cared about the crossbow more. It had been one of the first things he'd bought with his own money, and he'd be damned if some tweaker stole it. Merle never let anyone in the back of the house, except for when he was entertaining female callers. Daryl still wasn't about to take that kind of risk.

Daryl undressed, pausing to smell his undershirt. It still smelled like sex and like Shane's house. He liked that. He slipped on the pajama pants printed with South Park characters he wore to bed, and laid in bed. Exhaustion won out over the excitement, and he slipped into a restful, cheerful sleep.

**

“You look happy.” 

Glenn was was wiping down the counter when Daryl strolled in. It was about three in the afternoon, and the Pizza Stop was deserted save for Glenn, and Jim the cook. 

Daryl propped himself against the clean counter. “Yep. Give ya three guesses as to why.”

The younger man shook his head and reached under the counter to get a styrofoam cup, which he slid towards the redneck. “I don't need that many. You obviously got some dick from 57 Oakwood Drive.”

Daryl snickered and went to fill his cup with ice and Dr. Pepper. “Yep, and it was good too.”

“Congratulations. Say, when are you gonna find me some? I'd dying out here.”

“Use that dumbass phone app thing that you were tellin' me about, Gratr? Whatever the fuck.” Daryl sprawled in one of the empty booths, and Glenn came to sit with him. He had nothing to do, so he could afford to chat. 

“You asshole, I was talking about how much it sucked. You should see the amount of dickweeds on that piece of shit who put 'no Asians, no Blacks, no fats, no femmes' on their profiles.” He shuddered. “Like I'd stoop that low, and suck their White supremacist dicks, yuck. I may be a little desperate, but I at least have some self-respect.”

“Yeah, there's some real bastards out there. Think I probably fucked the majority of 'em. Yer better off not dealing with that kinda human garbage.” Daryl sipped at his soda. Every time Glenn brought up his lack of relationship troubles, Daryl wished he'd been more explicit with his flirting or something. He couldn't do it now without feeling full of doubt or that Glenn had noticed him trying to flirt, but had been too polite to outright tell him that there was no way he'd want to get with his old ass. 

“So, tell me about 57 Oakwood.”

“Nothin' to say. He's a sheriff's deputy, his name is Shane, and he's good in the sack.” 

“Wait, is he the same deputy that you sucked off in the woods?” 

“Yup. He just couldn't stay away.” Daryl waggled his eyebrows, and Glenn snorted.

“Oh my god. I don't know if I should be scandalized or congratulate you.” 

Daryl laughed. He felt at ease around Glenn. He could tell him pretty much anything, and the kid would just roll with it. No one else in his life was like that. They stayed seated in the booth for a while, talking about nothing and everything. Glenn had just gotten some really terrible Troma movies, and was going on how they needed to have another movie night soon. 

“Glenn,” Jim yelled out from the back, “Terry just called, he'd coming it with the paychecks.” 

“Aw shit. Daryl, you're gonna have to high-tail it out of here. I'm sorry, he said he wasn't going to bring them until tomorrow.” 

“S'ok. Lemme know when you wanna Troma it up.”

“Will do. You bring the weed, I'll supply the bad movies, and we can fry our brains.” Glenn went back to his post behind the counter. “Seeya later slutbag.” 

“Fuck you too pizza bitch.” Daryl filled up his cup one more time before heading out the door. He wasn't someone who had many friends. Actually, Glenn was probably the only person besides Merle who actually wanted to be around him. Except unlike Merle, he wasn't obnoxious and always getting into trouble. 

Daryl was in no hurry to get back home. He checked his phone for messages. Just the usual, one text from one of his weed clients, a couple from Merle asking when he was coming home, and if he could pick up beer on the way home. He answered the client, telling him that he could hook him up later that day. Then he texted Merle, telling him sure and to make out a couple of dimebags for the aforementioned client. The money from it wasn't the best, it definitely had nothing on the Craigslist jobs, but it was better than nothing. Then he saw a text from a number that he didn't recognize.

“Had a good time last night. Hope you're having a nice day. Let me know when you're free. :)”

Daryl stared at the message, then recorded the number in his contacts as Officer Good Dick. He had a chuckle over that, then erased it and re-entered it as Officer Walsh. That little message kept him in a good mood, even when his bank card was declined while trying to buy beer, forcing him to dig out the emergency twenty he had stashed in his wallet, and when the weed client tried to short him for the two dimebags. He kept peeking back at it, but didn't get up the courage to answer it until he was on the busted couch watching some bad, edited for TV version of Saw on cable. Merle was out at the bar, probably trying to find a woman that didn't know about his raging case of pubic lice. 

“Had a good time too. Miss you.”

Daryl paused and rewrote it.

“Had a good time too. You free tomorrow?”

The answer came back quick. “No :( Late shift. Maybe Monday?”

Daryl felt a little disappointed. “Sounds good.” He grinned. “I get to fuck you this time.” He hit reply. The answer wasn't so quick this time, making him worry that he'd been too forward. When his phone beeped, relief ran through him.

“I'll consider myself warned. Will have to limber up haven't had anything that big in a while. ;)”

The redneck couldn't stop smiling.


	5. Chapter 5

When Shane got to the station on Sunday, his good spirits were apparent to everyone. When they asked why he was in such a good mood he just shrugged and said no reason. That lack of an answer made it so everyone assumed that he'd gotten a hot date, and consequently, some hot action. Shane knew that they'd fill in the blanks, but he didn't feel like going into details. No one at the station knew about his sexuality. He didn't see the need to share it, because he didn't feel like they needed to know about his private life. Everyone else was more than happy to talk about their sex lives, but they were all heterosexual. It did feel weird, and Shane wondered what kinds of looks he would get if he told them just exactly what kind of a good time he'd had on Friday.

Even then though, he wouldn't have told them it had been with Daryl Dixon. That would not look good at all. 

His shift was quiet. He wasn't due to be on patrol that day, so he actually got a chance to get caught up on paperwork. Even then, the workload was so easy that when his cellphone vibrated in his pants' pocket, he pulled it out to check it without hesitation. He saw that it was a picture message, and that it was from Daryl's number. Too curious to wait until the end of his shift to look, he casually got up and went to the restroom. 

Once he was in the privacy of a stall, he opened up the message. He cursed his inability to wait until he was actually off work to take a look at it, because it was a picture of Daryl holding onto his hard dick in what looked to be his bathroom. Shane hadn't gotten any kind of pictures like this from anyone ever, and he was flustered. The redneck looked so goddamn sexy even in the dirty mirror. If anyone had a pretty dick, it was this man. Shane said a silent prayer of thanks to whomever invented high quality cameras for smart phones, because Daryl's dick looked fucking fantastic.

He read the message that accompanied the pic.

“hope you like, you can get some of this tomorrow ;)”

Shane ran his hand over his face, resting his chin in the palm of it. This man was going to be the end of him. After thinking it over, he sent him a response.

“Very nice. Can't wait. Talk more when I'm done with work?”

A few minutes passed before he got an answer.

“thanks sure I hope I made you pop a bone, stay behind yr desk or the others will see;)”

Shane snorted at that. But it was accurate. After exiting the stall, he washed his hands. It was a perfunctory gesture, but it made him sneaking off to the bathroom look more natural. His cheeks were a little flushed, so he patted his damp hands on them, trying to get the color to fade away. This attempt at being casual carried over into him strolling back to his desk. Rick's desk wasn't far from his, and the other man noticed Shane's goofy grin.

“You look pleased with yourself.”

“Heh,” Shane made a quick mental calculation of how much he could say, and how he could phrase it so that it wouldn't be too far from the truth without actually saying the truth. “Just got a picture from someone I saw on Friday.”

“Lucky dog.” Rick shook his head, the way he said it betraying some envy. 

“I guess.” Shane changed the subject, asking Rick a question about how the ongoing investigation into the rash of meth-related crimes that were plaguing King County. That saved him from having to dance around whatever details Rick might want to hear. Since he'd started having troubles with Lori, he was way too interested in Shane's dating habits. It was like he was living vicariously through his friend. Shane wondered how surprised his friend of many years would be if he were to find out the whole story of Shane's private life. 

**

As soon as he crossed over the station's doorway out towards the parking lot, Shane had his phone out and was composing a text to send to Daryl.

“You have some nerve sending me that pic, it got me all flustered ;p”

He'd barely sat down in the driver's seat of his car when the reply to that came.

“ If you thought that was bad you should see the pics I send to the guys that pay me for it.”

Shane chewed that over. He wasn't sure how he felt about that kind of thing. It wasn't his business, because he wasn't dating Daryl, he was only fucking him, but it left him feeling uneasy. Uneasy, yet kind of curious. The illegal nature of it was a little thrilling. 

“What if I wanna see those?”

“Hah, I gotta keep those for later have to keep you interested ;)”

“That's not hard to do.” The deputy wondered if the phrasing sounded a little too mushy, but he figured what the hell, and sent it anyway. He drove back to his place, ignoring his phone's beeps until he parked in his driveway. Daryl had sent him three texts. He read them as he walked to the door.

“Oh really?”

“Well let me give you another taste.”

The third message contained another picture. This one showed Daryl naked on his hands and knees, looking back at the camera with a porn star grin, one hand reaching back to spread his ass cheeks apart. Shane fumbled with his house keys, unable to focus on getting the key in the lock.

Another message arrived. “You like that? That one's gotten me a lot of dates”

Shane managed to get the door open, and texted Daryl back.

“I bet. Wow. How the hell did you get that pic??? It's real hot.”

The deputy set his keys and his wallet down by the door, and untucked his shirt. He was definitely going to have to get himself off sooner than later. Just those two pictures had gotten him ready for it.

Another message arrived. “They make phone stands for that kinda thing haha. Gtg, enjoy the pics.”

Then another. “Dont jerk it too hard :P”

Shane laughed a little at that one. “ok, seeya tomorrow, 7 pm ok?”

He was kicking off his boots when the answer came. “Sure. Seeya then” Shane smiled. He wasn't sure what exactly this thing was going to be, or if it was anything that would carry out into the future, but it sure was fun right now. 

He finished the pizza in the fridge, washing it down with a beer. It was getting late now, close to midnight, and he had to be up for work early. Shane's domestic routines were commonplace. He washed up, put on the boxers and the white t-shirt he wore to bed, and laid down with the TV on in his bedroom.

Shane was tired, but restless now. He kept looking back at his phone, going through the messages he'd exchanged with Daryl. The pictures got saved, but after some consideration, the conversation was erased. He didn't bother to enter Daryl's number in his phone. That was too incriminating. The pictures were risky too, but they were too good to be deleted yet. 

The deputy turned off the TV and the light by his bed, but kept flipping back and forth between the two pictures. Daryl's cock, Daryl's ass. Shane wasn't sure if he could pick which one was his favorite. Still looking at them, he grasped at his cock through his boxers. It was already half-hard just from looking at the two images, and he let his mind go back to Friday night. Being inside of Daryl had felt so good, and he'd looked so perfect on top of him. No wonder men wanted to pay for the privilege of fucking him. He pulled his cock through the hole in the front of his boxers and started to pull at it. He thought of what kinds of things you could buy from Daryl, just how far the other man would be willing to go for some money. How far he'd gone, and how much he'd done.

By the time Shane got to thinking about how Daryl would look and react to getting fisted, he'd cum once, and the thought of having his whole hand inside his ass up to the wrist, and moving it up and down inside of him while the redneck shook and whimpered made him cum again. Exhausted, Shane cleaned himself, rolled over, and slept it off.

**

“You like that, huh? You like havin' my cock up yer tight ass?”

Shane nodded, words not working right now. He was on his hand and knees on his bed, Daryl was behind him, thrusting in and out of him, and it was perfect. His arms were getting sore from supporting himself, and he let himself collapse face down into the sheets. It had been a while since he'd gotten fucked like this, and it was a lot more intense than he'd remembered it. Probably because Daryl was so damn big. Even though they'd taken it slow, and Daryl had fingered him until he was begging for his cock, it was still overwhelming. 

“Fuck, you take it so fuckin' good.” 

Shane moaned, and turned his head, trying to look back at the redneck. “Pull my hair.”

“What's that?” Daryl's strokes were slowing down a little, but were still deep, his balls slapping against his ass. 

“Pull my goddamn hair.” 

Daryl bent forward and reached down, his fingers grabbing onto his short, slightly curly hair. “Kinky bitch.”

“Don't call-AH!” Daryl yanked his hair at the root hard, making his head snap back and his arms push himself up again. “Don't say that.”

The redneck's grip lessened. “Sorry. How about kinky slut.” Shane turned his head at the man currently plowing into him. That genuine concern was so kind, even though it was technically just sex talk. 

“Yeah, that's alright.” Daryl smiled at him, tightened his grip, and sped up his thrusts again. 

“You cops are all the same, all tough and shit on the streets, hasslin' people like me, but really y'all just want people like me to fuck ya. 'Cause you know we'd fuck ya right.” Shane's back arched from his hair being pulled, Daryl's other hand holding onto his hip as he kept going. He'd lasted longer than Shane had when he'd fucked Daryl, or maybe time had just slowed down for the deputy in that moment. The redneck was correct though. He was fucking Shane right.

“Fuckin' slut,” Daryl grunted out, “c'mon, I wanna see you cum. Wanna feel it.” 

Shane reached in between his legs, and began tugging at his cock. He'd been holding off, trying to let it go on for as long as possible, but at this rate he was beginning to think that if Daryl kept it up he wouldn't be able to walk the next day. 

“That's it, stroke yer cock, slut.” 

A moan caught in Shane's throat, making him open and close his mouth reflexively. The orgasm that made his body shudder and his hole contract was apparently all the inspiration Daryl needed. He barely lasted longer than Shane, and the deputy felt him fill the condom as they collapsed on the bed. 

“Jesus Christ...you tighten up somethin' fierce when you cum.” Daryl pulled out and gave the prone man's ass a smack. “Almost thought my dick was gonna get ripped off.”

Shane rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows so he could give Daryl a dirty look. The redneck just laughed and went to toss out the condom. Shane decided that he liked the sound of his laughter. Seeing happiness on his face instead of defiance was nice.

Daryl joined him back in the bed, sitting apart from him like he wasn't sure what he should do. 

“C'mere.” Shane motioned to him to come lay down next to him. When he asked, Daryl look relieved, like he'd wanted to do that, but didn't have the gumption to be the one to make the first move. Funny. He'd had no compunctions about sending Shane nudes, but cuddling apparently made him hesitate. The redneck snuggled up to him, resting his head against his chest. It was kind of heavy, but Shane figured it was alright for a little bit. 

“Wanna watch some TV or something?” Shane ran his fingers through his messy hair. He wanted to avoid any kind of pillow talk when he still felt so uncertain about what this thing between them was. 

“Sure, if you got the SyFy channel they're doing a marathon of horror movies about big creepy dudes.” Daryl actually sounded excited about it. “I think they're showing See No Evil about now. That one's pretty dumb, but it's entertainin'.” 

Shane wrinkled his nose. “Uh, I don't like those kinds of movies. Mind if we watch football instead?”

Daryl looked disappointed, but shrugged. “Sure, it's yer TV.” He stayed cuddled up to Shane as the other man watched the game. Shane kept stroking his hair until the weight of his head was too much, and he had to shift away with an apology. When he did that, Daryl got up.

“What's up?” Shane felt worried that he'd somehow offended him.

“Gonna go have a smoke.” Daryl started to pull on his jeans.

“Wait.” Shane decided to throw him a bone. “If you want you can do it in here. Just open the window ok?” It was the least he could do considering what Daryl kept doing for him. A little second hand smoke in exchange for mind-blowing sex wasn't so bad.

Daryl gave him a little smile and kicked his pants away. He opened the window, and ducked into the bathroom for something to tap his ashes into. He came out with a small ceramic soap dish, settled in again with his cigarettes. 

The smell was a little oppressive, but weirdly comforting. It was a warm smell that Shane now associated with Daryl. When he finished his cigarette, Daryl laid down against Shane again.

“You wanna spend the night?” Shane murmured, before pressing a kiss against Daryl's temple. 

“Sure.” Daryl looked up at him, that charming, slick grin on his face. “I brought my toothbrush this time.” 

“Good. I gotta get up early for work though.” Despite his apprehension, Shane was excited to share his bed with him. During the commercial breaks Shane got up to brush his teeth and put his pjs on. Daryl stayed naked, as he hadn't bothered bringing anything to sleep in. Once the game was over, Shane turned off the TV and settled in to sleep. After some shifting and awkward positions, they settled on Shane being the big spoon and Daryl the little spoon. The deputy couldn't see it, but Daryl had a smile on his face as he drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Shane's alarm woke them both up at five A.M. Daryl groaned, and rolled onto his stomach as the deputy got up and began getting ready. He let the man in his bed doze as he peed, and then went downstairs to start the coffee pot. The familiar thud of the morning paper on his doorstep made him go outside. The old man across the street was up already, fetching his paper as well, and waved at him. Shane waved back, and noticed that Daryl had parked his lousy truck right in front of his house. He gritted his teeth, and hoped that no one would ask him about it later. 

Normally he'd take the time before work to go to the gym or at least work out at home, but he was still a little worn out from what he'd done with Daryl the night before. The redneck sure could exhaust him. He went back upstairs, crept past Daryl who'd apparently fallen back asleep, and went to take a shower. As Shane undressed, he noticed that the redneck had placed the soap that had rested in the soap dish on a couple of folded squares of toilet paper after taking the dish to use it as an ashtray. It was bizarrely well mannered. 

Shane stepped into the tub and turned on the shower, letting the cold water hit him first before it warmed up. He enjoyed the abrupt feeling, and it woke him up. As steam was beginning to curl up, he heard the door to the bathroom open. 

“Mind if I use the toilet?” Daryl's voice was still a little croaky from sleep, and it was endearing enough for Shane to forget his annoyance at the redneck's parking choice. 

“Go 'head.” It was a little weird hearing the other man pee, it was so casual yet it felt like something you'd only accept and do with someone you'd been seeing for a while. Little things like that could be so intimate. 

“You sleep ok?” Shane reached for his shampoo.

“Yeah. Yer mattress is fuckin' amazing. That shit's the most comfortable thing ever.” The toilet flushed, and the water in the shower briefly got cold again. Shane was beginning to lather up his hair when Daryl peeked around the shower curtain. 

“Can I join ya?”

Shane could barely see through the suds, but he could tell the redneck was grinning. “Sure, no funny stuff though, I gotta get ready for work.”

“Ok, yer loss though.” Daryl hopped into the shower and stepped into the spray, getting close to Shane. He respected what Shane had told him though, and didn't try to grab at him as they both lathered up. But the deputy was less strong willed. Daryl's naked, wet body was too enticing, and he went in to squeeze his behind. The redneck yelped with surprise when the other man's hand slid over his ass.

“I thought you said you didn't want no funny stuff.” He gave Shane's ass as smack in retaliation. 

“Yeah, but do as I say, not as I do.” He brought Daryl in close and kissed him, the water from the shower head trickling in between their lips as they kissed. The redneck put his arms around his neck and pressed his body closer to Shane's, making the deputy stumble back a little into the wall of the shower. Getting ready for work didn't seem like such a pressing matter now, not when he had a naked, almost beautiful man in his arms. 

“Didya want me to give ya head or somethin'?” Daryl whispered before going in for another dreamy kiss. 

“You're so generous.” Shane sighed as he moved his hips so his cock would rub against Daryl's. 

Daryl shrugged. “That's one way of puttin' it. Usually people just call me a slut.” He smiled. “Not that I mind. Better a slut than not gettin' laid.” 

“That works.” Shane squeezed his ass. It was a little flat, but firm. 

“How about I eat yer ass. You into that?” Daryl nuzzled his jaw before mouthing at it. 

“Uh, sure. No one's done that for me before.”

“You poor unfortunate!” Daryl laughed. “Turn around and I'll pop yer getting'-yer-ass-eaten cherry.”

Shane did, and Daryl kneeled behind him. The first touch was the now familiar one of his fingers, soaping up his crack and stroking his hole. 

“I think I like yer ass. It's real nice.” Daryl rinsed the whole thing off, and the next sensation Shane felt was the other man's tongue running up his crack and then back down again. The sensation of it against his asshole was something new, and Shane mentally cursed all of his previous lovers for not having done this with him. 

He jerked himself off as Daryl buried his face in his ass, eating him out with boundless enthusiasm. When he rubbed his hairy chin across his hole, Shane thought he might collapse. Everything the redneck did was a new kind of thrill. It was funny. The deputy was nowhere near inexperienced, having fucked and been fucked by all kinds of men and women, but Daryl did things that felt new and exciting. Obviously, he'd been with all the wrong kinds of people, because it took this scruffy criminal to fuck him right. 

Fucking him right apparently entailed having Daryl lick his hole with his tongue going flat against it. His mouth was encircling it now, and the stimulation was incredible. It was so intimate, and so forbidden. Shane came as Daryl was thrusting his tongue in and out of his twitching hole, his cum splattering against the wall, only to be washed away by the shower. He heard Daryl's grunts, then sighs behind him. Apparently eating ass got him off just as much as Shane had gotten off on getting his ass eaten. 

“I really need to get going, I'm probably going to be late now.”

Daryl stood up, rinsing the cum off of his hand in the shower spray. “Just call in and say you were getting' yer ass eaten by some guy in yer shower, they'd understand.”

“I'm sure.” Shane went in for a kiss, but stopped. It was a little weird to do that after where Daryl's mouth had been. The redneck sighed and stepped out of the shower to go brush his teeth. As he did, Shane saw his back. He understood then why Daryl kept insisting on keeping his shirt on. Turning off the shower, he stepped into the steamy bathroom, watching Daryl as he brushed his teeth. The redneck glanced back at him, spitting out the froth and rinsing his mouth out.

“I know.” He gestured to the scars on his back in a casual way, like he was used to the looks that it got him.

Shane stroked his back, unsure if he should ask why it was so scarred up. He decided that he shouldn't, and instead just hugged Daryl from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. They stood there as the steam dissipated, and the mirror became unclouded. They looked almost like a normal couple in the reflection of the mirror. Shane wished that it was as simple as it looked.

Shane didn't cook breakfast for Daryl. There wasn't enough time to linger over pancakes or eggs. Instead, they both ate bowls of cold cereal. Shane kept thinking back on his neighbor, and worrying about what he'd have to say if he saw Daryl exiting his house. Normally he wouldn't be so worried, but Daryl was Daryl. Shane wasn't sure if he wanted to be seen associating with him in public. 

“You'd better leave first. Otherwise I'd have to lock you in.”

“What, you ain't gonna give me a spare key?” Daryl joked. 

“Yeah right, you'd probably end up stealing my TVs.” Shane was too busy draining his cup of coffee to see the hurt that briefly flashed across Daryl's face. He gave the redneck a smile. “Go on, I gotta get going.”

“”Kay.” Daryl got up and placed his empty bowl and coffee cup in the sink. “Lemme know when you wanna get together next.” 

“Yeah. Hopefully next time I'll have time to make you breakfast.” Daryl smiled at him, and bent down to kiss him. He tasted like coffee and milk and cornflakes. His hand lingered on Shane's cheek. The deputy would have never guessed the redneck had it in him to be so tender. 

“Sounds good to me.” He left Shane sitting at his kitchen table. The deputy watched him exit his house, already trying to figure out where in his schedule he could fit him in. He finished cleaning up his dishes, and grabbed his stuff. Daryl was long gone by the time he locked his front door. As he made his way to his car, the neighbor from across the street waved at him and crossed the street to come talk to him. Shane scanned his brain to try and remember what his name was.

“Morning Officer Walsh.” The old bearded man was far too chipper considering how early it was. 

“Morning Mr. Horvath.” Shane hoped to God he'd remembered his name right. It looked like he had, because the man didn't correct him.

“I'm sorry to bother you this early, and before you head to work, but I just thought you should know that there was a real busted looking truck parked right in front of your house all night.”

Shane bit his cheek. “Really? I guess I didn't notice.”

“Yeah, I noticed it this morning when I got my paper, but when I looked again later it was gone. It's probably nothing, but I just thought you should know. Since you're a sheriff's deputy and all. I thought perhaps it was someone who might have it out for you.”

Despite his panic, a laugh bubbled up in his throat. “Thanks for the lookout, uh, I'll pay closer attention from now on.”

The old man looked pleased as punch with himself, and excused himself back across the street. Shane got in the front seat and let loose a hysterical laugh. 

“Oh it is someone who has it out for me, oh brother.” 

**

Shane didn't contact Daryl for a few days after that. After the irrational panic from his neighborly interaction faded, he gave Daryl a call. The redneck sounded so excited to talk to him it made Shane smile. They spoke vaguely about getting together again, without naming a night. Unfortunately, Shane's schedule became overly preoccupied as months of investigations resulted in a meth lab bust. It wasn't the Sky Blue shit that they'd been finding, but it was big enough to command the entire sheriff's department's resources. A week and a half passed without Shane seeing Daryl. They texted back and forth, sometimes just exchanging pleasantries, other times saying what kind of filthy things they wanted to do to each other. At the rate they were going, Shane was becoming an expert at jerking off with one hand while typing text messages with the other. 

After that first week, Daryl suggested that they meet up for lunch or something. Shane turned him down, using work as a pretext. In honesty, he still wasn't sure he wanted to be seen in public with Daryl. The man had a reputation, a rap sheet, not to mention his crazy-ass brother whom the whole sheriff's department hated. Especially after he'd led them on an hour long chase on his motorcycle a few years back. Merle had been high as a kite, and laughing his ass off as he'd weaved through residential neighborhoods with six cruisers chasing after him. He'd gotten jail time for that stunt, but not enough by everyone's opinion. He'd managed to lay low since then, but everyone had a gut feeling he'd been up to something. 

It would've been different if it weren't for all of those things, Shane swore up and down to himself. He'd been out on dates in public with men before, and he felt no shame for his sexuality. There was no kind way of telling Daryl that though, so he came up with excuse after excuse. He hadn't expected the redneck to be so eager to do normal, dating-type things with him, and Shane wasn't sure that was what he wanted with him. He felt tender feelings towards him, sure. Who wouldn't when they looked into those blue eyes? But it wasn't as simple as that. This wasn't some boy meets boy, they fall in love, they live happily ever after scenario. This was steadfast, law-abiding sheriff's deputy meets law-breaking, trouble-making criminal. The more he thought about it, the harder it became for Shane to justify it to himself.

But the redneck was irresistible, even if he was trouble. When he was able to get a few days off in a row, he told Daryl he could come over. 

“come on over tonite, tomorrow morning I'll make you breakfast.” Shane measured his words carefully and then typed. “park away from my house pls. Nosy neighbors :/”

Daryl responded with a yes, and nary a comment about being asked to park away from his house. It was a shitty thing to ask, but Shane figured he could explain it better when they were face to face. When the redneck got to his house that night, he didn't mention it though. He just threw his arms around Shane and kissed him, and hugged him close. The deputy hadn't been expecting such a warm hello.

“It's nice to see you too.” He murmured, nuzzling Daryl's dark blond hair. As uncertain as he was about his feelings about Daryl, he was certain he liked this moment. 

“Sorry, I guess I kinda missed yer dumb cop ass.” Daryl tried to play it off, but Shane could hear giddiness in his voice. “Look I know you probably wanna relax at home, but they're doing a midnight movie night at the Magnolia Theater tonight, and they're gonna show Killer Klowns From Outer Space. D'you wanna go?” When Shane didn't say anything, he awkwardly added. “The movie's funny as fuck. Alien clowns wrap people in cotton candy that turns 'em into goo, and then they drink 'em.”

It didn't sound like something he'd even remotely enjoy, but guilt made Shane say yes. 

“Sure, when does it start?”

“At ten.”

“I thought you said it was a midnight movie?”

“Not literally, it's just the genre.” The sly grin that Shane found so sexy appeared on the redneck's face. “We got some time to kill, what d'you wanna do?” He tugged at Shane's belt and the deputy smiled. 

“Do I gotta spell it out?” Shane's hands grabbed at Daryl's ass, bringing their groins together. “I'm tired of jerking off while imagining doing things with you, I need the real thing.” 

“Well at least you hold me in high esteem.” Daryl actually giggled, which was the strangest thing Shane had ever seen despite it being cute as hell. “Howsabout you tell me about some of the things you've been imaginin' and we can see about makin' 'em come true?”

Shane kissed him hard, holding onto his hairy chin, and wondered if he played his cards right they could avoid going to the movies.

**

The deputy silently cursed Daryl for talking him into going to the movie. They'd gotten there with ten minutes to spare, and Daryl was currently yukking it up with a skinny Asian guy who apparently was his friend. A weirder pair of friends Shane had never seen. What was worse was that this friend had greeted him with familiarity, as if Daryl had been telling this friend all about him. The more Shane thought about it, the less he liked it. He didn't know this Glenn from Adam, and didn't know if he was the kind to gossip, but this was a small town. Word spread eventually. It was bad enough Daryl had grabbed his hand while in the lobby, and Shane hadn't wanted to hurt his feelings by shaking it off. 

“So I told Terry, 'If you're going to cut my damn hours, you can find yourself another delivery bitch.' And you know there's no one around that's even going to consider sticking with that stupid job longer than a month.”

“Ha! I wish I coulda seen the look on that bastard's face.” Daryl was sucking on an Icee purchased from the lobby at a ridiculous price. Shane had decided not to get himself a drink or a snack, because he preferred not getting ripped off.

“Yeah. Motherfucker backed down though, thank God. I need to find something better though. At this point I keep praying for him to lay me off, because lemme tell you, unemployment is a million times better than working for a megalomaniac.”

“I hear ya man.” The lights dimmed, and Daryl rushed back to his seat next to Shane. “Talk to you after the movie.”

“'Kay. Hey Shane, enjoy the madness, I promise you won't regret sitting through this one.”

Shane nodded at the younger man. The feeling of unease that he'd come into the theater with was now full blown irritation. He tried to let it go, and focus on the movie. The theme song playing over the opening credits was a real 80s nightmare, and when he looked over at Daryl, the redneck looked as excited as a little kid. He was looking up at the screen, smiling, and chewing on the straw of his Icee. He caught Shane looking at him, and smiled at him.

“This movie's ridiculous, yer gonna love it.”

Shane smiled at him, and took his hand in his. In the darkness of the movie theater, he figured it would be alright to do. 

**

The movie was incredibly dumb, but very entertaining. Shane got some good laughs out of it, especially when the shadow puppet ate the biker, and the giant clown battle at the end. As the credits rolled, they got up, and were met in the lobby by Glenn. 

“So Shane, how did you like your first midnight movie?” The kid was so friendly and normal-looking, the deputy wondered how the hell him and Daryl had ever gotten close. Daryl didn't seem like the kind of guy that would be friends with someone like Glenn.

“It was pretty terrible, but it was fun.” 

“That's exactly the point!” Glenn laughed. “They do this about once a month, and let me tell ya, they've shown some real doozies. Remember when they did the shadow cast of Rocky Horror last year.”

“Oh god, I can't forget that shit.” Daryl shook his head and turned to Shane. “Before the movie they had an fake orgasm contest and a costume contest with a bunch of half naked people, it was real wild. Some dude mooned the audience and I swear we all saw his balls.”

“Wow, sound...interesting.” 

“Hey, d'you two wanna go to the bar down the street? My friend's bartending tonight, so we could possibly get extra cheap drinks.” Glenn sounded so enthusiastic at the prospect of hanging out with the both of them. 

“I dunno, what d'you wanna do?” Daryl asked Shane.

“I think I'm ready to go home right now, but thanks for the invite.” The deputy silently thanked his lucky stars that Daryl had left it up to him. 

“No prob, maybe some other time then. Hell we could make it a double date or something.”

“You gotta have a date to make it a double date dumbass.” Daryl cuffed Glenn on the arm. 

“Hey, it's not for lack of trying ok.” Glenn shoved the redneck back a little. “I'll see y'all later. And Daryl, we gotta plan that damn Troma movie night.”

“Yeah. I'll call you 'bout it. Seeya later ya asshole.”

“Seeya ya piece of white trash.” 

With a middle finger extended at each other, Glenn ambled out of the movie theater. Daryl tossed out his empty Icee cup, and smiled at Shane.

“So, yer place?”

Shane smiled back at him. That smile of his could make all of his lofty ideals and his resolve melt away. 

“Yeah, let's go.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: This chapter contains a scene of drug use.

“So how did you meet this Glenn guy?”

Shane was driving, trying to concentrate on the road despite Daryl occasionally groping at his thigh. The redneck was having too good of a time to stop teasing him. 

“It's a long story. Basically, I saved him from getting his ass beat by my brother, and we've been friends ever since.” When Shane glanced over to the other man, he noticed his face was lit up like crazy . “He's real nice. Good taste in movies. Shitty taste in weed though.”

“I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that last part.”

Daryl chuckled. “Sorry, I keep forgetting yer an officer of the law.”

“Says the guy that gets off on calling me Officer and gets into sex fantasy scenarios where I arrest you.”

“Shut up.” Daryl kept laughing. “I mean, yer actually fun. Yer not so damn serious and shit. You know how to cut loose. In bed at least.” He bit his bottom lip, and forced himself to say what he'd been wanting to say all evening. “You know, I bet you can cut loose other ways too...we should go out more, like tonight.” 

Shane made a noise that sounded kind of approving, and it was enough for Daryl to feel a little relieved. The rest of the drive was silent except for the radio, which Shane kept scanning because of ads and lousy music. When they got back to his house, Shane pressed the garage opener attached to the visor in front of him and opened the garage. 

'He doesn't want his neighbors to see you.' Daryl thought. Even though he was kind of used to that routine by now, it hurt more than usual. Shane was so nice to him behind closed doors that Daryl had kind of resigned himself to the fact that this man might not want to be public with whatever this was. It was funny how even though the redneck thought he was ok with it, it could still sting. 

Daryl knew he'd pushed things tonight, with the movie and the hand holding. When Shane had held his hand during the movie, he'd felt so happy. Like he wasn't just his little somethin'-somethin' on the side. Like he was actually his boyfriend. 

When they got into the house Shane kissed him, and it was back to tenderness, to soft touches, to Shane looking at him all sweet-like. The deputy could turn that on and off so easy. Daryl couldn't. 

They made their way to the bedroom. Despite fooling around earlier, they were both ready for more. This time though, things were moving slow. It wasn't the rough, desperate sex of their previous “dates.” Shane's hands slid over Daryl's body slow, teasing the parts of him that needed to be teased, stroking and caressing him as they undressed. This time Daryl took all of his clothes off, hoping that Shane would understand what that meant. That it was an opening for something much deeper than just fucking each other's brains out.

If the dark-haired man understood, he showed no signs of it. But he was making Daryl feel good, and that was enough for the moment. When he lifted Daryl's legs up and settled in between them, his strong hands felt good. When he slid his cock into Daryl, it felt good, and made the redneck sigh. When he fucked him slowly, his thrusts controlled and his eyes closed, it felt good.

When it was done, Shane held Daryl in his arms. And it felt good. Then why did Daryl's heart feel so sore? He settled into the other man's embrace, and tried to ignore it. There was no reason for him to feel bad when everything in that moment was so good.

**

The smell of butter mingling with frying batter woke Daryl up. Shane had made good on his promise to make him breakfast at least. He laid in the comfortable bed, listening to the faint sounds of activity in the kitchen, and smelling the smells of domesticity. Daryl didn't understand why it just couldn't be like this, the two of them together without hesitations. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to imagine how that talk would go. The thought of asking Shane “Will you be my boyfriend?” sounded so dumb, like something you'd say if you were in middle school.

The redneck sat up and stretched, then got up. He'd slept naked again, so he rummaged through Shane's dresser drawers and took a pair of blue boxer briefs and a plain white undershirt. When he strolled into the kitchen, still a little hazy from sleep, Shane looked him over with appreciation. 

“You look good in my clothes.”

“Thanks.” Normally his first action of the day would be to smoke a cigarette, but Daryl wanted to be close to Shane right now. “Is breakfast ready?”

“Yeah.” Shane dished out some pancakes onto a plate and gave it to Daryl. There was cutlery and syrup already on the table. The redneck cut his pancakes into squares before pouring the syrup over them, allowing the sticky sweet stuff to really soak into the crumbs. By the time Shane sat down he was halfway through his plate.

“Are they good? I'm no chef, but I can cook pancakes reasonably well.” 

“They're perfect.” Daryl mumbled out before swallowing his mouthful of food. “Thanks.” 

“Good.” Daryl watched Shane as he ate. He alternated between sips of coffee and bites of pancakes. He stored that little fact away for later, so he could think of it and smile to himself when he felt lonely. 

“I'm gonna be heading down to Florida next week.” Daryl perked up at that, and the foolish thought came to his head that Shane was going to invite him to come along. “Gotta go visit my folks.” 

“Hm.” The redneck cursed himself for even thinking that Shane would ask him to come with him. 

“Daryl...” Shane looked like he was trying to find the right words, and Daryl felt himself perk up again. He was nothing if not quick to jump on any hint of kindness. He'd grown up on scraps and crumbs, and he still believed that that was as much as he could ever get. And that it was as much as he deserved. 

“Yeah?” Daryl to keep his expression even. He didn't want to come off as needy as he felt.

“You probably shouldn't try to text or call me while I'm gone. My folks are real...” Shane's brow furrowed as he tried to sound out the words.

“Nosy?” 

The deputy made a gesture that indicated that Daryl had hit the nail on the head. “Yes. Very much so. They're always riding me about relationships and all of that.”

“Do they know that yer-ya know?”

“No. I don't think they need to know about that.” And that was the end of the conversation. As Daryl helped Shane clean up, he casually mentioned he should be getting home, that his brother needed him for something. Shane looked a little disappointed, which was confusing. Daryl high-tailed it out of there as soon as he could, leaving Shane with a quick kiss on the cheek. 

When he got back to his truck, which he'd parked two blocks away, he lit a cigarette, pulled out his phone and texted Glenn.

“You free tonite? Need to talk/hang out.”

**

“I just don't get it. I think he likes me, but-” Daryl took a hit off the blue and green glass pipe that Glenn had handed to him, and allowed the smoke to settle into his lungs before blowing it out, and continuing with what he was saying. “But what the fuck, he acts like I'm some kinda of dirty little secret.”

“I dunno man.” Glenn scratched his head. They were sitting facing each other at Glenn's kitchen table, listening to some weird music that Glenn liked and had insisted that Daryl listen to. It was kind of abrasive and the vocals sounded slowed down and slurred. The younger man had said it was something called “The Zombie Rave Mixtape.” It sounded like something out of a goddamn horror movie, and Daryl kind of liked it. It fit his gloomy, self-hating mood.

“When he gets back from Florida maybe you should talk to him about it?” Glenn took the pipe back from Daryl, put his thumb over the hole in the bowl, took his lighter to the weed that was left it in, and sucked in the smoke, little wisps of it rising from the bowl. “If you really like him, you should let him know. Some guys need it spelled out for them.” He took a sip from the tall can of iced tea that he had in front of him to relieve the warm scratchy feeling that the weed caused in his throat. 

Daryl nodded. He hated having to be the one to do the talking though. For once he wanted someone else to be the first to say that they wanted to be with him. “Yer probably right.”

“Of course I am, ya dum-dum. Alright. I think I'm high enough to watch 'Class Of Nukem' High'. You ready?” He grabbed his Ipod and turned it off just as the lumbering beat of the song dropped and the distorted vocals began to moan again. “Don't follow me, I engineer...”

“Yeah.” Daryl didn't mean to be so glum, especially when hanging out with Glenn was always such a happy thing. Fortunately, the kid didn't give him a hard time about it. He just smoked weed with him, gave him food, and tried to cheer him up. Tonight the food had been spaghetti and meatballs he'd made himself. The kid could cook, Daryl would give him that.

He even cuddled him while they watched the mutant-looking high school scumbags raise hell on the TV screen. It wasn't the kind of cuddling that led to sex. It was the kind of affection that made you feel valued and loved even without the sex. Still, it was a little unfortunate. If there was anyone the redneck wanted to fuck besides Shane, it was definitely Glenn. He had a different kind of sex appeal than the deputy. He looked like the kind of guy that would actually make love to you, instead of just fucking you. Although, from what the kid had told him, he had a kinky streak that involved everything from spanking to sex toys to sex acts that even Daryl had never done. 

He still remembered the time Glenn had told him about how he'd fisted some dude on the first date. The kid had just shrugged it off, saying it wasn't that big a deal considering there had been no genital to genital contact, and they'd planned it in advance, but to Daryl it was still pretty amazing. It's not every day that someone tells you all casual like that they've put their entire hand up someone's ass. Honestly it had sounded real hot, and after Glenn had told him about it, Daryl had gone home and jerked off to the thought of Glenn doing that to him. The redneck couldn't imagine letting anyone else do that to him though. Glenn was the only person he'd trust to fuck him like that.

Daryl had sat down on the floor with his back against the couch, and Glenn had started by rubbing his neck and his shoulders. He always did that when Daryl was tense. It was just another thing that made him such a sweetheart. Eventually Daryl got sick of sitting on the floor, and hauled himself up next to Glenn, laying his head on his shoulder.

Glenn held Daryl and played with his hair as they watched the movie. This usually happened when they got high together. Glenn was the kind of person that got really sweet and affectionate when he was high. Considering how kind and sweet he was to begin with, Daryl found it pretty impressive that he managed to top himself at all. Truth be told, that was exactly why he'd texted him earlier. The redneck knew that if they hung out like this, they'd end up cuddled up together, and he needed that kind of boundless, unreserved affection right now. 

When the movie was over, Daryl didn't feel like leaving yet. He just stayed seated next to the younger man, slumped down into the couch and into Glenn as the pleasant high from the weed and from the cuddling wore off. For not the first time, he wished he had the guts to kiss the younger man, but he was too afraid of what he imagined would be immediate rejection. Glenn was young, good-looking, and basically a catch. Daryl saw himself as the total opposite. Old, worn out, and only able to offer a half-decent fuck to whomever wanted it. 

“ You ok man?” Glenn turned his head towards him, his hand still scratching Daryl's scalp.

The redneck shrugged. “I guess. Just worried about shit.”

“Is it just the stuff with Shane, or...?”

“It's money bullshit.” Reluctantly, Daryl sat up and began gnawing at his torn up fingernails. “I gotta pay off my damn fines before they fuckin' start hasslin' me.”

“Dude, if you need help-”

“Glenn, I doubt you got the money to pay them off.” Daryl sighed. “Besides I wouldn't want to put that strain on ya. Merle helped me with some of them, but I still owe, like, 1,500 bucks.” 

“Yoinks.”

“Yeah, yoinks. And I can't get no bites on Craigslist, they've been real harsh lately with taking down ads for 'services.'” He curled his fingers into air quotes. “Merle said he could maybe help me out some more, but I dunno if he's gonna come through. You know how it is. As soon as he gets money it's out of his pocket and going towards all kinds of stupid shit.”

“Look, I'm serious, if you need help with it I can help you out.” 

“I seriously doubt ya got that much money squirreled away from pizza delivery tips.” Daryl reached for the glass of cherry Kool-Aid Glenn had given him halfway through the movie.

“I got some money saved from my tax return, you jackass.” Glenn kicked his shin gently. “And I'm serious. Just say the word and I'd help you.”

Daryl rolled the glass between his hands. The Kool-Aid was warm now, but he finished it anyway. “Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. I gotta get home though.”

“Ok.” Glenn got up and walked out of his apartment with him to his truck, and gave him a bear hug in the tiny parking lot attached to the building. Daryl smiled. Glenn didn't give a shit what his neighbors thought at least.

“It'll all work out in the end, don't worry.” 

Daryl clapped the younger man's back, and again wished he could just kiss him. Kissing Glenn would maybe make him feel better. “I hope yer right.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: This chapter contains scenes of drug usage, a brief sexual assault scene, followed by a scene of physical violence.

Daryl was used to seeing real shitmobiles parked in front of his place, so the shiny, well kept Dodge Durango was a real surprise. He looked it over before going inside. It was impeccable, and he wondered who the fuck would've driven such a nice car to this place. When he went inside, he got his answer. A dark-haired man was sitting awkwardly on the couch in the living room. He looked to be about middle-aged, and was dressed in nice slacks, a suit jacket, and a tie. 

“You here for Merle?” Daryl usually didn't bother acknowledging the existence of the losers who came to see Merle. He figured the less he knew, the better. Selling weed was one thing, no one ODs off of that and the worse he had to deal with were spoiled college brats. Meth though...that brought out the crazies. This guy didn't look like a crazy.

“Uh, yes, he's just getting me, uh,” The man stood, his nervousness apparent, “the name's Philip.” He extended his hand, and Daryl shook it for lack of knowing what else to do. He noticed the golden flash of a wedding band on it.

“Daryl.” He looked the guy over. He didn't look anything like the usual suspects that came to the house. But then again, appearances didn't account for much. 

Merle came back into the room, a baggie of Sky Blue in his hand. “See you've met my lil' brother. Now Phil, I sure do hope you got yer money 'cause I ain't runnin' a goddamn charity.” 

Daryl left the two to their transaction. No need for him to witness it. He went to his room, and flopped onto his lousy mattress. He missed the comfortable one in Shane's room. He almost wished he was there right now, despite his increasingly uncomfortable feelings towards that man. He ran his fingers through his hair, which was getting a little long. He was going to have to ask Merle to buzz it off for him. Sighing, he rolled onto his stomach and laid face down on his bed. If only he didn't fall so easy. If only he didn't fall for the wrong guys. If only someone could fall for him for once. If only, if only, if only. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, not bothering to turn his light on. Might as well just sit in the darkness, it suited his lousy mood.

He heard the front door close, and the sound of a car engine starting, which was followed by Merle coming into his room and throwing himself full force onto the bed, causing it to bounce and creak in a worrisome way. 

“Fuck! Merle, I done told ya the damn mattress is busted, I don't need you bustin' it up more.” He landed a decently forceful punch on his brother's arm and sat up. 

“Shut the fuck up, yer gonna be replacin' it soon anyways, because yer beloved older brother has got some good news for you!” Merle looked around the room. “Why the fuck you sittin' here in the dark? You depressed or somethin'?”

Daryl got up and flipped the light switch. “The fuck you talkin' about, you buyin' me a new mattress?”

“Even better little brother. You know that guy that just left, Phil? Well, it seems like he took a likin' to you.”

“I talked to him for less than a minute, how the hell can he know whether he likes me or not?”

“I don't know, it was probably yer natural charm. Anyway, he was askin' about you real casual like, so I mention that you sell ass, and that got him perked up. He was askin' what it would cost to buy yer services. And lemme tell you, this motherfucker's got money.” He brandished a wad of hundred dollar bills. “He bought a whole mess of Sky Blue. I'm gonna be out for a while because of him, but I ain't complainin'.” He peeled a couple of bills out and handed them to Daryl. “Here, don't spend it all in one place.”

Daryl snatched the bills from him and tucked them into his wallet. “So he wants to buy some time alone with me? Just from shakin' my hand?” He remembered the wedding band. If he went through with it, it wouldn't be the first time he'd done it with a man with a ring on his finger. 

“'Parently yer so darn cute that's all it took.” Merle stood and pinched Daryl's cheek, making his little brother slap his hand away. “I got his cell number, he'd like you to call him as soon as possible. He said preferably around three p.m., not on the weekend.” 

Daryl nodded. If this guy was so desperate just from a handshake, he could probably get a decent amount of cash from him. Especially if it turned into a regular thing. The redneck's brain started calculating rates and costs, and locations and times. This could be just the thing to take care of his troubles. Glenn was right, things did have a way of working out. 

**

“I normally don't do things like this.” Phil was sitting on the motel bed, looking nervous as fuck. Daryl knelt down, giving him his best compassionate smile.

“It don't matter to me. Relax. I'll make you feel good.” He reached out and tugged at the buttons on the other man's shirt. “What would you like?” 

They'd already decided on a price. Daryl had been merciless, and told him it would be $800 for the night, which included everything from handjobs to blowjobs to Daryl fucking him. If he wanted to fuck Daryl, it would be $500 extra. To the redneck's surprise, he'd agreed without complaint. 

“Do you mind if I, uh...” Phil pulled out a small case from his briefcase, and opened it. It contained a glass pipe, and a baggie of blue meth Merle had sold him. Daryl felt uneasy, but normally his tricks that had done that in the past just ended up wanting to fuck all night long from it. Which wasn't too bad, as long as they paid in the end. 

“Go 'head.” Daryl rubbed the palm of his hand across the other man's groin. “Want me to suck you off while yer doin' that?”

A grin spread across Phil's face, and Daryl noticed something cold behind his eyes. “Oh, I knew you were something special when I first met you.”

**

That first night was uneventful. Daryl gave him head while he smoked his meth, and after that he'd asked to be fucked. It was moments like this that the redneck silently thanked Glenn for hooking him up with free condoms. After being fucked for a while, Phil asked Daryl to piss on his chest, which was a little weird, but Daryl had done it before for other customers, so he wasn't that phased. He just mentally tacked on extra for it. Then they went back to fucking, pausing from time to time so Phil could smoke. Daryl just sat and watched him take hit after hit of meth before going back to fucking him. After he came, Phil requested Daryl cum on his face. It was so commonplace and pornographic that it felt boring. The sex Phil wanted was so goddamn dull, like he'd gotten all of his sex fantasies from watching bad pornos. Daryl almost admired him for it. It took a lot of skill to make sex this tedious. 

The whole session lasted about five hours, thanks to the meth that Phil kept smoking. By the end of it, Daryl was exhausted, sore, low on condoms, and about $1,200 dollars richer. And Phil wanted to do it again. Daryl agreed and the other man said he'd arrange a second night for them the next week at a different motel, one of the ones off of Route 30. 

As soon as the courthouse opened the next morning, Daryl went in and paid his fines with the money he'd earned plus money Merle had loaned him. That took a load off of his mind. As the week progressed towards his second appointment with Phil, he began to have second thoughts. He didn't particularly need to do it, and honestly, he was feeling a little tired of the selling-ass-to-get-by game. He wasn't so young and good looking anymore, so that put him at a disadvantage. But he did need a new mattress, and he kind of wanted to get one of those nice one's like Shane had.

Shane was still in Florida, and was supposed to be coming back in the next few days. Daryl found that he didn't like going without talking to him for so long. It made him feel anxious. He kept opening his phone, hoping a text message or even an email would pop up. Nothing. The redneck had mentally made a mark on the day that Shane was supposed to be back. Thursday, the 27th of June. When that day rolled around, Daryl waited anxiously for his phone to ring or beep at him. Nothing.

Friday came. Nothing. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, nothing. The whole time, Daryl could feel his heart being squeezed tighter and tighter, until it was like no blood could get into it and the blood that was in it was rotting. When he was little, Daryl had met a man that this father referred to as his Great Uncle Tommy. He was missing an arm, and drank almost as much as his dad. Merle said that they'd had to chop of his arm 'cause it had “gone 'grenous.” Daryl had looked it up in one of the dictionaries at school after that, and it had scared the wits out of him, the idea that part of you could die and start to rot while you were still alive. That was how his heart felt, except there was no way of cutting it out.

'The least he could've done was tell me he didn't want me anymore.' Daryl kept thinking to himself. 

'But he made me pancakes.'

'Of course he wouldn't want to be with me, hell, he didn't want his fuckin' neighbors seein' me. Fuck him.'

'Why doesn't he just call? Maybe I should call him...no.'

His brain kept going around in circles, making him slip deeper into despair. 

Tuesday. That was when he was supposed to go to the Peach Inn off of Route 30 to meet Phil again. That place was the place of choice for prostitutes and their johns. Merle was well acquainted with it, and they even knew him by name at the front desk. They didn't recognize Daryl, but they did do a double take while looking at him, as if they recognized some resemblance that they couldn't place. Daryl just tugged his leather vest close, and went up to the room Phil had reserved. 

Phil greeted him at the door. “Daryl, I'm so glad to see you.” He sounded so goddamn cheerful, but it was edgy under the cheer. “And you're on time, oh you really are the best.”

“That's what they tell me.” Daryl ran his fingers through his hair. There was something in Phil's tone of voice that put him on edge. The man looked flushed and sweaty, and he could see the pipe and the bag of meth sitting on the decrepit dresser by the bed. “How much you been smokin'?”

Phil's laugh was the scariest thing Daryl had heard in a while, and he began thinking of ways to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible. “Why? Didya want some? Don't worry, I left you some.”

“No thanks, I'm not into it.” Daryl tried to keep his voice even, and his face smiling and nonthreatening. 

“Your loss.” Phil grabbed the pipe, held his lighter underneath it, and inhaled the noxious white cloud the crystals produced. Once he exhaled, he turned to Daryl again. “I think I wanna fuck you this time, I got the money for it.” He produced his wallet and slapped several hundred dollar bills on the dresser. “See? All there, $800 plus $500, that's $1300. Lucky number 13.” 

“Sure, sounds good.” Daryl emptied his jacket pockets, producing condoms and lube. “Let's do it then.”

**

Daryl kept staring at the stains on the wall. The walls were a off-white color, and as a result every stain showed up clearly. He wondered if the large brown one by the head of the bed was a water stain or something worse. Phil was pounding away at him, his less than impressive dick slamming into Daryl in a way that only brought pleasure to the man behind him. The redneck just kept his eyes trained forward, and pretended like he was having a grand old time. 

“Oh fuck yeah, you fuck me so good.” He could make the words sound totally convincing, and it was working. Phil was currently convinced he was some sort of sex god personified. When he stopped, Daryl actually was surprised. Guys like him never stopped until they'd gotten their rocks off.

“What's a matter?” He tried to look back but Phil grabbed hold of his hair, holding his head still.

He slid back into Daryl, but this time it felt different. It was flesh on flesh, and the redneck went into panic mode. “Hey, I don't do that.” He tried to pull away but Phil yanked on his hair hard enough to make his eyes tear up. 

“I like it better without the condom. Feels better.” 

“Stop it!” The man behind him didn't listen and began to thrust. Fear turned into rage. “I SAID STOP!” 

Daryl ignored the hand in his hair and yanked his head away. He rolled away from the naked, sweating man. “I said fuckin' stop it ya asshole!” 

“Fuck you! I paid you, get back here.” He tried to clamber off the bed to rush at Daryl, and the redneck caught his eye with his fist. 

“That don't mean shit bitch!” Daryl managed to knock him onto the ground, and kicked him hard in the ribs with his naked foot. The man howled in pain and anger, and grabbed his leg, making the redneck stumble and fall. The fall was awkward, and Daryl felt a shooting pain in his groin as his legs slammed together. The pain was enough to make him unawares, and allow Phil to get on top of him. The first hit only clipped his head, but the second one landed true. Daryl just kept kicking and punching out blindly as the man kept beating him.

'I'm gonna die. He's gonna finish rapin' me, and he's gonna kill me.' 

Those were the words that kept running through his head. Using all his force, despite the pain and the blows raining down on his head, he managed to shove Phil off. There was the sound of glass breaking, and a scream of pain. Daryl dragged himself in the direction of the bathroom across the disgusting, slightly sticky carpet. The shrill screams sounded like words.

“MY FUCKING EYE!!!” 

There was a pounding at the door. Shouts from outside. Screams of calling 911. Daryl managed to get into the bathroom, and locked the door behind him. He'd barely had time to lock it when Phil began pounding on it hard enough to make it shake in it's hinges. 

“YOU CUT MY EYE YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU FUCKING FAGGOT!”

Keeping his back pressed against the door, Daryl began to laugh humorlessly. 

“You got some nerve, asshole. Some fuckin' nerve.”

The pounding was loud enough to mask the sound of the sirens. When it stopped Daryl was too busy laughing at it all to care. 

'Perfect. This is just perfect.' 

The deputies busted in yelling. Commanding him to unlock the door. He obeyed. Whatever the deputies were going to do to him now, it couldn't be worse than what had just happened.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: homophobic language

Visiting his folks had been as relaxing as it could have been for Shane. His mother kept asking questions. How was work, was it dangerous, was he seeing anyone? Shane was an expert at side-stepping and half-truths, so he was able to answer the questions reasonably well. His father didn't care as much about his personal life, and contented himself with just talking about how things were going in Florida for them. The weather was nice, the fishing was good, everything was as it should be. 

The whole time, Shane began to wish that Daryl would ignore his request, and contact him anyway. He kept checking his phone, re-reading old texts and looking at old pictures. But as his vacation drew to a close, he began to think about what kind of future there was for him and Daryl. He tried imagining introducing him to his folks. That was laughable. He tried imagining telling Rick about it. He could picture Rick's disapproving look clear as anything. He tried imagining going on on dates in public with Daryl. He drew a blank.

He was loath to admit it, but he began to realize that the driving force behind their “relationship” had been his sex drive, not romance. And what was worse, he knew for a fact that Daryl saw it differently. Driving back to King County, he began to compose a break-up speech. When he got home, he'd call Daryl, meet with him, and end it as cleanly and neatly as possible.

Except he didn't. Days passed, with him going back and forth in his phone, almost dialing the number, almost texting him. Mercifully, the redneck didn't try to contact him either. That was some small relief. So he just deleted their old texts, and, after hesitating, all the nudes that Daryl had sent him.

**

When Rick and Shane responded to the call for backup at the Peach Inn, neither of them were prepared for the scene that laid in front of them. The ambulance was already there, and the EMTs were trying to sedate a very angry dark-haired man who was bleeding around his right eye. He kept howling and screaming, and when Shane got out of the cruiser he could hear what he was saying clearer.

“That goddamn faggot tried to kill me! He assaulted me, I want him arrested!” 

It only got worse when Shane went up to the room where the altercation took place and saw Daryl slumped on the bed, being questioned as an EMT looked over the injuries to his face. His left eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in scrapes and bruises. The redneck saw him out of his good eye, and looked down. He looked humiliated. Gone was the defiance that had made Shane so fascinated with him. Now he looked beaten down. 

Shane felt guilt first, because he hadn't spoken to the man since he'd got back from visiting his parents, then anger. Why the fuck did Daryl need to put himself in these kinds of situations? He was a grown-ass man, he knew the risks of doing this kind of thing. It couldn't be worth whatever money it earned him. 

“What's the situation?” Deputy Johansson was taking notes, having just finished questioning Daryl.

“Well it looks like what we have here's a lover's quarrel.” Johansson couldn't help the small smirk on his face. 

“That motherfucker ain't my goddamn lover.” Daryl mumbled, wincing as if it hurt to talk. 

“Nothing's broken, but you should come to the hospital anyway.” The EMT packed up her things. “He's all yours for the moment.”

“If he ain't your lover, then why were you shacking up with him in this establishment?” Shane didn't like Johansson's tone. Daryl didn't respond, obviously trying not to incriminate himself. “Well, your friend downstairs is yelling that you assaulted him and that he wants to press charges. Now, are you sure you told me everything?”

“Yes goddamn it. We were having sex, he tried to fuck me without a condom, I told him to stop, he didn't, so I tried to get away.” Daryl was getting heated now. “He fuckin' attacked me. It ain't my fault he fell on his fuckin' pipe and hurt himself. He was tryin' to kill me!” 

“Uh-huh.” Johansson nodded to Shane. “Why don't you keep this one company, and we can try and sort this mess out.”

“Sure thing.” The dark haired man stared down at Daryl. He was still avoiding looking back at Shane. As soon as Johansson left the room, the deputy grabbed the chair in the corner of the room and sat down, still staring at Daryl. The redneck said nothing to him, and that just made him more frustrated. 

“Why the fuck did you do this, huh?” Shane's tone was harsh, and Daryl winced again, as if it hurt just as much as his injuries. 

“Needed money. I done told you I did this kinda thing.” Daryl covered his face with his shaking hands. “Nothin' like this ever happened to me before.”

“You idiot,” Shane hissed, “you could've gotten yourself killed.” Shane stopped himself. They didn't need to have this conversation right now, not when any of his colleagues could walk in and interrupt them. “We'll talk about this later. For now, I gotta try and keep your ass from getting arrested.”

Daryl looked up at him. “He's the one who attacked me, why the fuck would I get arrested?”

“Daryl, who are they gonna believe, him or you?” Shane didn't say it out loud, but Daryl knew exactly what he meant. Who would they believe? A regular guy like Philip, or a white trash whore like Daryl? Suddenly, Daryl was glad that Shane hadn't called him.

**

The lighting in the hospital examination room was harsh, making the man seated on the edge of the exam table look even worse than he already did. His right eye was bandaged up, and his face was grim with self-righteous anger. He'd calmed down though, enough to talk to Rick in a semi-coherent fashion.

“I want to press charges. That man assaulted me and I want to press charges.” 

Rick had only been talking to this man for ten minutes, and already he'd decided that he didn't like him. Philip Blake, married, with one daughter, salesman at a Dodge dealership in the next town over. Upstanding citizen on the outside, that was for sure. 

“I understand that sir, but I have some more questions I'd like to go over with you.” Rick was trying to keep his voice even. The whole thing stunk worse than roadkill in July. All he had to do was take a look at the other man's injuries to see who the real victim was here. 

“Do we have to do it now?” Blake was fidgety, and kept looking at his cellphone. “I'd really like to get this over with and go home.”

“It'll only be few questions sir. Now, you said you picked up this man, Daryl Dixon, because he was hitchhiking?” 

“Yes, uh, I saw him on the side of the road, and he hailed me down.” Blake wasn't a very good liar. He kept looking away from Rick, a tell-tale giveaway. “I agreed to give him a lift to the motel, and he offered to give me some money that he had in the room he was renting to pay me back. When I went up there, he proceeded to throw himself onto me. Now I'm a married man, and I certainly am not into that kind of thing, and I told him so, but he didn't listen. He offered me meth, which I refused as well, and I saw him smoke some and then-” Blake took a breath, “he attacked me!”

“Why were you naked.”

“Excuse me?”

“The responding officers said that when they came into the room, you were naked.”

Blake sputtered. “He, uh, he made me get naked. I was afraid for my life, I thought I'd better obey. I didn't know if he had a weapon or not.”

“Alright. Now, Mr. Blake, let's go over this. You said you picked up this man hitchhiking, then went to the motel where this man already had a room rented. Now I'm sorry to say that doesn't match up with the facts. The clerk at the front desk of the Peach Inn, said that you came in around,” Rick checked his notes, “8:00 P.M. and asked for a room for the evening. You paid cash, and then went up to the room, alone. Then, around 9:00 P.M., a man fitting the description of Mr. Dixon was seen going into room 114, which was the room you had reserved. About thirty minutes later, the people in the room next to yours reported hearing a commotion, then shouts and the sounds of fighting, which is when we got called.”

Philip Blake sat silently, as if he'd realized that he'd been found out and there was no way of getting out of it. 

“Now Mr. Blake, you alleged that Mr. Dixon had been smoking meth. He has agreed to undergo a drug test. I would like you to do the same, so we can get the whole story.” 

Blake scoffed. “Ridiculous, I refuse.”

Rick nodded. “It is your right to refuse it, but I can tell you right now that I know for a fact that his drug test will come back clean. Yours, however, if I had to guess, wouldn't.” He stepped closer, his voice going hard. “I know the symptoms of a meth high Mr. Blake, and when we responded, you were exhibiting all of them. Now you can do as you said you wanted to do, and press charges, but I want you to consider this. If you do, how exactly will you explain it to your family.”

Blake's face blanched, and fear widened his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“That at this point, pressing charges against Mr. Dixon will lead to a lot of unwanted attention. But it's your choice.” Rick closed his notepad, and exited the room. Shane was standing against the wall, waiting for him.

“So?” The dark haired man asked him before going back to chewing on his fingernails.

“I think we've got this handled.” Rick gave him a small smile. He wished Shane would have told him about this whole thing before, but he supposed he couldn't begrudge his hesitation. He just hoped that in the future, Shane wouldn't get romantically involved with people like Daryl Dixon. There was way too much policework involved in it.

**

The Sheriff's department wrote the incident off as a misunderstanding, which was a laugh as far as Shane was concerned. Misunderstandings don't usually involve a person being savagely beaten. Daryl didn't even try to press charges against the man, so the whole thing just kind of blew over. As far as what Blake said to explain his injuries to his family, the deputy had no clue, nor did he care. He did fantasize in passing about finding the bastard's address and giving him a taste of his own medicine. However, he figured that Daryl's brother might just take care of that for him without asking. When Merle came to the hospital to pick up Daryl, he looked madder than hell and ready to curb-stomp anyone who looked at Daryl the wrong way. That kind of brotherly love was almost heartwarming, even though the person it was coming from was certifiable scum. 

Shane had resisted calling Daryl when he'd gotten back from Florida because he'd realized that nothing between them could work. It hurt so bad, because he did like Daryl, despite all the bullshit. The redneck was something special underneath it all. However, this incident only cemented for him the knowledge that he could not be with him. Daryl lived outside the law, and there was no way Shane could turn a blind eye forever.

Days passed, with Shane wondering if he should call him, or text him, or do something. He was driven to distraction from it, and when he closed his eyes to try and sleep all he could see was Daryl's battered face. Finally, he broke down. He went through the call logs in his phone to find the redneck's number, and pressed the call button. It rang once, twice, and he heard the sound of Daryl's voice. 

“'ello.” It sounded slightly slurred, like he'd woken him up.

“Hey, it's Shane.”

Silence. Then a small laugh. “Wow, Officer Walsh deigning to call little ol' me. Trying to check up on me? See if I've been getting into trouble?”

“Yes, well, no. I just-” Shane sighed, and swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I'm just dandy, officer. Recoverin' quite nicely.” Daryl's voice was so distant, and it hurt, even though Shane knew it had to be like this. But he couldn't talk to him about it over the phone. 

“I want to see you.”

“Why? So you can fuck me?” The redneck said without emotion. “I gotta warn ya, my rates have gone up. If I'm gonna be stupid and put myself at risk, I'm only gonna do it for the big bucks. Ya think ya can afford me on yer salary?”

“No goddamn it, I need to talk to you. No games, no nothing.” Shane's voice shook, surprising him. At this rate, he was liable to start crying. “Please Daryl.” 

Silence again. “Alright.” Daryl's voice sounded small. “When?”

“Tonight?”

“Ok. I'll be sure to park good and far from yer house.” Before Shane could say anything Daryl had hung up. The deputy held his head in his hands, letting his phone slip out of his hands and onto the couch. He expected tears to come, but they didn't. Instead, it was numbness and a feeling of bone-deep sadness that went beyond tears.

**

When Daryl turned up on his doorstep, it took all of Shane's self control not to grab him and hold onto him. The swelling in his face had gone down, but the bruises were still there. They were green and purple and yellow on his face, making his skin look like a watercolor painting. 

“I'm here, you said ya wanted to talk, so talk.” Daryl sat down on the couch, not looking at Shane. The deputy crouched down in front of him, but the redneck refused to meet his gaze.

“I'm sorry I didn't call you...while I was in Florida I did a lot of thinking, and I needed to not talk to you for a while.” Daryl began chewing on his thumbnail. “I realized a lot of things. Daryl, this thing we had...” The past tense in that sentence made Shane falter. “It was amazing. But it can't work out. It just...it just wouldn't work. I'm me, and you're...you.” The deputy hated that he sounded so weak, but he was. So weak, and so full of hurt.

Daryl finished listening to him, and sat silently, his leg bouncing up and down a little. Shane felt helpless as he watched him. Finally, the redneck spoke up.

“You asked me to come over to yer house just for this.” He scoffed. “You could've done this over the fuckin' phone.”

“I didn't want to. I figured I owed it to you to do it like this. In person.”

“Why, were you hopin' to get one last fuck in before we parted ways? Was that it? Because it's pretty fuckin' clear to me that was all I ever was to ya. Just an easy lay.” The redneck's voice was so angry, but Shane could hear and see the hurt underneath the anger. That just made it all worse.

“No, goddamn it Daryl, that's not it at all.”

“Then what is it? Huh? Why the fuck did you have me drive over here? Was it just so you could tell me how much of a piece of garbage I am in person?”

“No!” Shane sputtered, unable to think of anything that could convince Daryl that he was doing this for the good of both of them, that he was worth more than just being a fuck-buddy, even though that had been the extent of their relationship. That he was actually the most amazing man he'd ever met, and that it was killing him to do this.

The redneck watched him struggle for words. Then, as if struck by the realization that Shane wasn't going to say anything else, he got up abruptly. “Don't worry, I get it.”

“Daryl, wait.” Shane moved out of his way, despite not wanting to.

“No, fuck you Walsh. You wanted to have some fun, you had it, and now yer done with me. It's crystal fucking clear. Shit, I don't know why you even asked me here to tell me. Ya could've done this over the goddamn phone.” Daryl kept his face turned away from the other man, and Shane tried to put a hand on his shoulder. Daryl slapped it away with surprising force. “NO! You don't get to fuckin' touch me no more. I ain't yer nothin' no more, and I sure as hell ain't stayin' here where I ain't wanted. Fuck you.” 

He marched out the front door, slamming it behind him. Shane stood in his house, its emptiness acute. The tears that had been threatening to come all day finally rose to the surface and let loose. He collapsed on the couch, the spot where Daryl had sat still warm. Sobs wracked him until his throat and his eyes were hurting, but they brought no relief. Once they passed, all he could do was sit there numbly, staring out without registering his surroundings. 

'You are such a fucking coward.' A voice inside his head mocked him. 'If you weren't a coward you wouldn't have given up on being with him.' 

That phrase repeated in his head, a mantra of self-reproach and sorrow. It sounded in his head when he finally made his way up to his bedroom, and laid on the bed. The bed that he'd briefly shared with Daryl. The tears came again, and didn't stop until he fell asleep.

He awoke to his 5:00 A.M. alarm with sore eyes and a pounding headache. He hadn't bothered changing before bed the night before, and had slept in his jeans and t-shirt. He stripped them off and stumbled into the bathroom. Shane looked at himself in the mirror with disgust. His eyes were swollen and red, and he looked haggard. He turned the faucets in the tub, and the water began to stream out. The reflection in the mirror stared back at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes. 

Oddly enough, a phrase from a song that he'd loved when he was in his twenties came to him.

“I've shaved every place where you've been, boy.”

He ran a hand through his hair. Daryl's fingers had felt so good in it. He could almost feel them now if he concentrated hard enough.

Without thinking, he knelt down and rummaged through the cabinet under his sink. He found the black pouch that contained the clippers, and he pulled them out. As steam rose around him, he began shaving off his hair in sections. Shane wanted no memory of the pleasure he'd shared with Daryl. He didn't want to remember any of it. If he didn't, it wouldn't hurt so goddamn much. Dark brown hair fell at his feet in chunks, and he kept thinking of those damn words of that song that he couldn't remember the name of.

“I've shaved every place where you've been.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics quoted are from "Blood Roses" by Tori Amos.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: racist language, homophobic language, misogynistic language

When Merle had gotten to the hospital and seen his brother beaten and injured, the only thought in his mind was to track down Philip Blake and kill him. He kept repeating that as he drove Daryl back home in his truck, which he'd retrieved from the motel parking lot.

“That motherfucker better pray he don't see me again, 'cause I'mma kill that sumbitch. I'mma cut him up slow, and make that bitch swallow his own balls, fuckin' rapist-ass bitch.” Merle slapped the steering wheel. “Lemme tell ya little brother, ain't no one that's gonna sell that bitch meth in this goddamn county no more, I'm puttin' the word out. That bitch is cut off. Shit, fuck the county, he ain't gonna be able to get shit in the state of Georgia. Motherfucker is cut off permanently! Just like his dick is gonna be if I ever see him again!”The older redneck was shouting now, his face turning red from fury. The fury was directed not only at Blake, but at himself. He'd allowed this to happen. He was the one who'd given Daryl that damn phone number. From the moment he'd gotten the call from Daryl in the hospital, he'd been mentally beating himself up over it. 

“Merle,” Daryl had sighed, his voice thick from the swelling in his face, “shut up.”

That quieted him down, but didn't quell his anger. Merle knew that objectively, he was not a good person. He drank, he got high, he frequented establishments of ill repute, he made people uncomfortable, and was generally an abrasive asshole. He'd been to jail for doing fucked up things, and had done even more that he'd gotten away with. However, there was one thing that he hung onto: the knowledge that his love for his little brother was honest and true, and no one could cast aspersions on that. 

He'd been 10 years old when Daryl came into the world. They didn't share the same mother, but as far as Merle was concerned, they were nothing if not true blood brothers. When Daryl's mother left, escaping their drunken, violent father without taking Daryl, who was five by then, Merle had sworn to himself that he'd take care of him. And he did. He'd helped Daryl take his first steps, changed his diapers, shoplifted toys for him. He'd taken beatings for him, administered beatings for him, and tried his best to be a good brother. Sometimes he was, like the day he beat the shit out of their father for not letting Daryl have a second helping of macaroni and cheese. Other times he wasn't. Every time he'd gotten sent to juvy or jail, he spend every moment worrying about his little brother, and cursing himself for not being faster than the law. 

Merle knew early on about Daryl's sexuality. He'd caught his little brother making out with one of the neighbor boys when Daryl was sixteen. If he was being honest, Merle would have preferred it if Daryl were straight, if only because it would be easier for him. He'd seen how gay guys got treated in prison, and it made him fear for his brother's safety. He'd told his little brother this once, and Daryl had punched him, and yelled at him never to say shit like that to him again. Fair enough.

“So that Walsh guy, the pig who was talkin' to Officer Grimey-ass, was that the one who you were seein'?” Merle asked Daryl when they got home. His brother had told him little bits about it, and Merle had given him a hard time for fucking around with an officer of the law. In the back of his mind, he'd figured it would never work out and Daryl would be hurt yet again. Except this time he wouldn't be able to beat the dude's ass for it, not if he wanted to avoid going to jail again.

Daryl looked at him sadly. “Yeah...I don't wanna talk 'bout it though.”

Merle didn't push him. He figured if his little brother wanted to talk, he'd come to him. Except he didn't. A few days later, when Daryl came back home angry and crying, he tried again. 

“What's wrong?” Merle had only seen Daryl in such a state once before, when their dog Skipper had died back when they were both young. Daryl just shook his head through the tears, and slammed the door to his room. Since that night, he'd barely come out of there, and Merle was getting worried. All Daryl did now was watch TV, sleep, and smoke weed. When Merle did manage to get him to talk a little, he sounded listless, like nothing was worth the effort. 

So Merle pulled out all the tricks in his arsenal to try and cheer him up. He brought home Taco Bell and horror movies from the Redbox at Wal-Mart. Daryl just smiled, and ate his food in his room alone. He offered to go kick that Walsh's guy's ass, despite the risk, but that just made Daryl break down into tears again. Finally, he scrounged up all the money he had to spare, and bought Daryl a brand new mattress with a memory foam top. His little brother thanked him profusely, but his eyes were still full of sadness. 

Merle was at a loss. Between Blake assaulting him, which he still blamed himself for, and that bastard kicking him to the curb, Daryl was in a bad way. His older brother had no idea what to do to help him. But he knew someone who could. 

**

The Pizza Stop was jumping when Merle rode up to it on his motorcycle. The families dining there gave him sidelong glances when he walked in, but Merle was used to it. Honestly it made him feel good when people stared. 

'That's right assholes, drink me in. I'm the bad guy yer mamas warned you about.' 

He walked up to the register, where a middle-aged man with a crew cut and a name tag that identified him as Terry and as the manager was working the register.

“Is Glenn workin' tonight?” 

The man looked at him and hesitated. Merle just sighed, and repeated himself. “Is. Glenn. Workin'. Tonight. Jesus Christ don't tell me ya don't understand plain English.”

“I'm sorry sir, but I'm not at liberty to-” It didn't matter what he was about to say, because he caught a glimpse of the kid walking through the kitchen.

“YO CHINAMAN! I gotta talk to ya.” People turned to stare, but Glenn had heard him. He looked at Merle with wide eyes. 

“What the hell?”

“Alleyway, right now.” 

“Glenn, do I need to call the cops?” Terry looked like he was about to piss himself.

“Don't worry, I ain't gonna beat yer delivery bitch up, I just need to talk to him, give him a smoke break or somethin'.” He looked back up at Glenn. “I gotta talk to ya about you-know-who.”

Glenn understood, and motioned to the back of the restaurant. Merle exited and walked around back to the dumpsters where the younger man was waiting for him.

“Is Daryl ok? He hasn't been answering my texts or phone calls lately.” Glenn looked worried, and Merle decided that despite everything, the kid was alright by him.

“He ain't doin' good. Not at all.” Merle rubbed his shaved scalp. “I need yer help chinaman. Yer his only friend in this fuckin' town. He won't talk to me. Maybe he'd talk to you. Shit, he fuckin' talks about you all the goddamn time.” It was true. Daryl wouldn't shut up sometimes about all the stuff he did with Glenn, how they watched that movie, or went and did this, etc. Merle figured it was only a matter of time before his brother tried to jump the skinny Asian's bones, and honestly was puzzled that it hadn't happened yet. 

Glenn glared at him. “First of all, don't call me that. It's fucking racist as shit, and I'm Korean, not Chinese. Second, I'll help him, but just keep in mind, I don't like you. Swear to god, if you threaten to beat me up ever again, I'll...do something you won't like.” He kid wasn't good at intimidating people, but then again, that was an acquired skill. 

Merle put his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough. Why dontcha come to the house after work. I know he'd talk to ya. Don't matter if it's late either.”

“Ok.” Glenn kicked at a discarded Pizza Stop coupon flyer on the ground. “I gotta get back inside. I think you made my manager shit his pants. Actually, that was kinda awesome. You should come by some other time and tell him to give me a raise.”

The older redneck laughed loudly. Yeah, the kid was alright. 

**

True to his word, Glenn showed up at the house after he got off work with a pizza box in tow. Merle greeted him at the door, and Glenn saw how he was looking at the pizza. “Don't worry, there's enough for your dumb ass too. And it's still hot.”

“Kid, ya may be a goddamn queer and a Korean, but I think I like ya.” Merle reached into the box and snatched out a couple of slices. “I told Daryl you was comin' over, I think that cheered him up some.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “He even showered for ya.”

Glenn smiled a little. “That's something at least.”

“His room's back there.” Merle pointed to the small hallway that led to the back of the house, and Glenn moved towards it. “If y'all are gonna do any of that gay-ass shit, keep it down. I don't wanna hear none of that!”

“Wooow.” Glenn muttered under his breath. Merle was a real lulu. He didn't have to look hard for Daryl's room, because the redneck opened the door and waved him in. 

“Hey. I'm sorry 'bout Merle. I would've answered the door, but I was gettin' changed.” He gestured to his ratty black t-shirt and his torn up army pants. “I figured ya wouldn't wanna hang out with me in my pjs.” 

Daryl sounded somewhat normal, but his face betrayed his exhaustion. Glenn put the pizza box down, and extended his arms. “Dude, you look like you need about a million hugs.”

The older man paused, then fell into Glenn's embrace. The younger man hugged him tight, their chests pressing together. Daryl felt tears come back up to his eyes, but he blinked them away. “Are you ok?” Glenn murmured, gently ruffling Daryl's hair. 

“No.” The redneck's voice sounded so small. “I ain't.” He sat on the edge of his bed, and Glenn sat next to him, keeping an arm around him. “That bastard Blake...Jesus fuck I don't even wanna think about that bastard, he can go to hell.” Daryl wiped away the stray tears that had landed on his cheek. “And Shane, goddamn it. I was so fuckin' stupid. He just wanted a fuck-buddy and I fell for him like a dumbass.” 

“You're not a dumbass, dumbass.” Glenn stroked the back of his neck, and Daryl relaxed a little under the touch. “You caught some feelings for someone who didn't return them, that happens to the best of us. Hell, it's the human condition.” 

“I just-” Daryl sighed. Just Glenn holding him made him feel a little better, and he regretted avoiding his texts and calls. “I just feel so stupid and used up. I mean look at me. I'm pushin' forty, and I'm still gettin' played.” 

“I don't think that kind of stuff ever stops man. No matter what age you are, you risk loving someone who doesn't love you back.” Glenn gave him a gentle smile. “Fuck, it's happened to me plenty.” He reached for the pizza box he'd brought. “Now I think what you need is to eat pizza with me, and maybe watch something real stupid. What do you think?”

Daryl smiled a little. “Sounds good. Wanna watch Dead Alive?”

“Fuck yeah I do!” 

Daryl set up his shitty laptop on the bed, and they ate and watched the funny gorefest together. The redneck actually felt a little better for it, especially when Glenn joked along with the movie. The way he said the line “Your mother ate my dog!” made him die with laughter, and he had to replay that scene a couple of times so Glenn could do it over and over. Outside in the living room, Merle drank beer and smiled when he heard the two of them joking and laughing. Glenn was good for Daryl. He'd have to be on his best behavior, as to not scare him away. His little brother needed someone like that Korean kid in his life.

After the movie was over, Glenn didn't leave. Instead, he sat up with Daryl as he talked. Eventually the subject of the conversation became Philip Blake. 

“Sometimes I wish I had the guts to ask Merle to beat that bastard up. Fuckin' rapist.” Daryl ran his hands through his hair nervously. “What if he gave me somethin'? I mean, he was only in me raw for a minute, but...”

“Well, do you wanna get tested? My friend Amy, the one at the free clinic, says they're going to be doing free STD screenings soon. I can go with you. Hell, I should get one done too, last one I had was a year ago.”

“Kid, you ain't been goin' with anyone durin' that time. Why the fuck d'you need it?” 

Glenn shrugged. “It doesn't hurt to get checked out regularly. Plus, like that I'd be there to support you.” 

Daryl blinked, and for the first time in weeks, he felt like a person who could be cared about. “Alright . We can do that.”

**

“Oh my god, this is making me feel so pathetic. What the fuck am I supposed to put under emergency contact, all my family's in Michigan.” Glenn was tapping his pen on the edge of the clipboard. 

“Put me or somethin'. I'll be yer emergency contact.” Daryl signed the bottom of the STD screening consent form.

“That makes me feel so much better. If there's some sort of freak accident when they draw my blood and they end up killing me you can drive my corpse to the graveyard.”

“Nah, I wouldn't drive you the graveyard.” Daryl snorted. “I'd leave you in a ditch on the side of the road.” 

“You are so kind.” Glenn grabbed the redneck's clipboard and took it along with his to the receptionist. “Like, wow, such a good friend.” 

“I know, I'm the best aren't I.” As nervous as Daryl was, he was no where near as nervous as he would have been had he come alone. 

“Oh yeah, you're a prince amongst men.” Glenn pulled out his phone and began scrolling through it. “Dude, you gotta see this game, it's so funny.” He pulled up the game, and Daryl watched him play through a couple of levels. Apparently the object was to plant plants which then killed zombies. It was kinda cute. 

“Plant one of them watermelons, they look like they do a lotta damage.” Daryl pointed to the animated watermelon plant that shot melons at the zombies.

“I don't have enough sun, ah shit my pea shooters are getting eaten. Fuckin' omnivore zombies, they want my plants and my delicious brains.” 

“Are them chickens zombies too?” Daryl looked closer. 

“I guess. That's so freaky, zombie chickens, slaves of zombie Colonel Sanders, spoooky.”

“That's what yer next Halloween costume should be.”

“What, a zombie chicken?”

“Naw, zombie Colonel Sanders.” Daryl snickered at the thought. 

“No you should be zombie Colonel Sanders, you're the Southerner.” Glenn laughed. “And I could be the zombie chicken. Oh shit, we could scare the pants of the kids in my neighborhood.”

“Or make 'em laugh, it don't sound all that scary.”

“Says you, anything can be scary if you add enough fake blood.”

“Daryl?” A young blonde called out his name from the doorway that led to the back offices and examination rooms. The redneck stood up fast. The sooner this would be over the better. 

“Hi, you're here for the free screening right?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Daryl's nerves were going haywire again. 

“Ok follow me, it's in room 4.” The blonde saw Glenn and waved at him. “Wait, you're Glenn's friend right?”

“Yeah.” Daryl followed the blonde to the exam room.

“He's told me about you. You're much shorter than I imagined.” She laughed amiably and let them into the room. It was as friendly as any clinic room could be, and it smelled faintly of Lysol. “Now, is this just a yearly screening for you, or is there a specific reason for you wanting to get screened?”

Daryl sighed, and told her the whole story of his encounter with Philip Blake. To Amy's credit, she listened and looked at him without judgment. It was a welcome change.

“It sounds like you went through a very traumatizing situation.”

“I guess.” Daryl felt slightly better after spilling his guts out to this woman. She had that kind of air about her that made him feel comfortable and not like he was being sized up. 

“Daryl, I'm going to go get the person who's going to draw your blood, but I'm going to be back ok? I want to get you some info about a sexual assault survivors group we have here, and some of the counseling services we do. It's all sliding scale, and often we end up serving people for free, so you don't have to worry about cost if you choose to take advantage of them. I think it might be helpful for you if you could talk to some people that have gone through the same thing.”

The redneck nodded, not sure if he was comfortable with the idea, but Amy made it sound good. The nurse came in, drew his blood, bandaged his arm, and like she said she would, Amy came back and gave him some pamphlets. She sent him off with a smile, and called Glenn in to the back. 

Daryl sat down in the waiting room, and looked through the literature he'd been given. He didn't like the idea of the group therapy thing, just the thought of telling strangers his problems made him real uneasy. But the one on one counseling was something to consider. Hopefully the person who did that would be as nice as Amy.

The only other people waiting were a dark-skinned Black woman with dreadlocks who had a little boy on her lap. Next to her was a blonde woman who was playing peek-a-boo with the child, making him giggle and squirm with joy. They'd come in shortly after Glenn and Daryl had arrived. The way the two women looked at each other made it clear that they were a couple. It was nice to see, because they looked so damn happy. 

'Lucky them.' Daryl thought.

The little boy slid off his mother's lap, and ran from her giggling, as if he was participating in some marvelous game. The Black woman chased after him, and picked him up. Daryl must have been unconsciously staring, because she locked eyes with him. He gave her a small, awkward smile.

“Cute kid.”

“Yeah, problem is he knows it.” She smiled at him. “You waiting on your boyfriend?” 

Daryl sputtered. “Oh he's, uh, he's not my boyfriend. Just my friend.” 

“Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.” The woman looked a little abashed.

“No no, no offense, I mean, we're both, ya know, but not with each other.” Daryl really hated how unwieldy words were at moments like these.

“I see. Sorry, it's just the way y'all were talking to each other...you'd make a cute couple.”

“Thanks?” Daryl laughed a little, not sure what else to do. 

“Honey, stop embarrassing him.” The blonde said.

“I'm not embarrassing him, am I embarrassing you?” The Black woman looked at her girlfriend then back at him.

He shook his head, and his cheeks felt hot. Thankfully, Glenn came back out at that moment, and they left. The little boy waved goodbye to Daryl, and he waved back. When they got back to Glenn's car, Daryl told him what had happened.

“Oh my god, that's so funny!” Glenn laughed. “Wow, we must really put the vibe out ya know?” He tapped his Ipod back to life, and clicked the wheel until he settled on playing some of the weird electronic stuff he was into. Daryl didn't mind, because on the way there they'd listened to what the redneck had wanted to listen to. 

“I guess.” Daryl felt a touch of sadness. It was such a nice idea, but he tried to put it out of his mind as Glenn chattered away about this and that. Even if they weren't a couple, he was happy that the guy was there for him. As the younger man drove him home, Daryl realized that he needed to tell him something.

“Glenn, I'm sorry I didn't call ya or text ya back when you tried gettin' ahold of me.”

“Dude, don't worry about it. You were trying to cope.”

“Yeah, but I should've talked to you. I mean, yer helping me out right now, and I 'preciate that a lot.” 

Glenn shrugged. “Hey, what are friends for if not helping each other out like this. You'd do the same for me.”

Daryl nodded. That was true. He'd do anything to help the younger man out, though he doubted he could ever repay him for helping him out like this. 

**

When the clinic called Daryl back a few days later to give him his results, he was relieved. He was fine. Little by little, the cloud of depression that had engulfed him faded to the point where he could at least get up and get things done. Merle noticed, and as much as Daryl was relieved, he was even more. Now if only he could get that Glenn kid to ask Daryl out or something.


	11. Chapter 11

“So, you gonna talk to me about it?” 

Rick and Shane were sitting in the cruiser, on their lunch break. Since the day Shane showed up at work with his head shaved, he'd been distant. Rick worried about him. They'd been friends long enough for him to know something was terribly wrong.

Shane shrugged off the question, and sipped at his iced tea through the straw. 

“Shane, I understand if you don't feel comfortable telling me details, but I'm here for you man.” Rick rubbed his brow. “Shit, you've been there for me. What with everything going on...”

“That's different though, what you're going through is major. I mean, I'm hoping Lori reconsiders this whole separation thing, but it's still a big thing.” Shane sighed. “You don't wanna hear about my problems brother.” He'd figured that the tiffs with Lori were nothing serious, and now he felt seriously guilty for not having tuned out what Rick had been saying about it.

Lori had asked Rick for a temporary separation a few days before, and Rick was still shook up. As much as he was worried about the future of his marriage, he was also worried about the well-being of his friend. That night at the hospital, when he'd questioned Blake, Shane had told him some of the facts. He'd been seeing this Dixon character, and that while the man did prostitute himself, he most definitely had not assaulted Blake. Rick didn't need to be told that Daryl was innocent in this case, as he'd gotten all the facts, so he'd done what he could. And it had worked. Blake had gone away without pressing charges. Rick still wasn't sure if it had been the ethical thing to do, but it had been right. 

“Look, Shane, what's going on between me and Lori, that's one thing. It don't mean I'm not here for you man.” Rick balled up the paper wrapper that had held his sandwich. “If you need to talk about it, I'm all ears.”

“Jesus, Rick...right now I just feel real stupid.” Shane rubbed the palm of his hand over his forehead. “I did something that was beyond dumb, and now all I can think of is how bad of a screw-up I am.” He kept talking in vague terms, still uncertain as to how much he wanted to reveal. He wasn't sure he wanted to tell Rick about how badly he'd gotten wrapped up in Daryl's charms, and how much he'd overlooked for the chance to get him in bed.

“You fell for him, didn't you?” Rick asked, but Shane said nothing to that. “There's no shame in that. People fall for the wrong people all the time.” 

“Yeah, but do they fall for criminals?” Shane drained the last of his drink, the ice rattling as he moved his straw around. 

“That's besides the point. It doesn't matter who or what this guy was or did. You saw something in him that you connected with on some level. You felt tender stuff for him.” 

“Yeah...” Shane looked out the window. He still was getting used to seeing his own reflection without hair. It had been an impulsive act, just like what had led him into this mess in the first place. 

“There's plenty of people out there who you're gonna feel the same thing for. I know you, you ain't gonna be lonely for long.”

Shane cracked a smile. “What're you implying? That I'm easy?”

“I wouldn't say that. Just,” Rick waved his hands, “free with your affections?”

“Fuck you Grimes.” Shane laughed, surprising even himself with the sound. 

“Whatever. You're gonna be ok in the end. You always are.” 

“Yeah.” Shane knew that to be true. It just would take a while until he felt it for certain. The radio crackled on, telling them that they were needed at the 7-11, the manager had caught a shoplifter. As Rick drove them over there, Shane kept looking out the window. Since he'd parted ways with Daryl, each day seemed lackluster. He missed the excitement that the man had brought into his life. But alone excitement was not something that could sustain a relationship. He wasn't sure when he'd feel ok, but he knew that one day he'd wake up, and he would be. 

And he hoped it would be the same for Daryl.


	12. Chapter 12

“Where you goin'?” Merle was sitting at the table, making dimebags of weed. He'd decided to cool it with dealing meth for a while. He didn't wanna deal with the crazies, and sure as hell didn't want them around his brother. It had been a few month since the incident with that Blake asshole, and, as Merle had promised, he'd put the word out to all of his fellow dealers not to sell him shit, no matter what. The redneck was not a successful man by any means, but he did have influence where he figured it counted. 

“Gonna go hang out with Glenn for the evening.” Daryl sounded happy. That was all that mattered. 

“Have fun. Don't let that boy raw-dog you though, he might have Korean AIDS or somethin'.” Merle expected the slap upside his head, but it was worth it just to poke at his little brother. 

“Fuck you Merle. Don't wait up.”

“Don't worry, I ain't gonna wait up for yer gay ass” Merle just smiled and continued his work. Yep, as far as he was concerned, everything was gonna work out. 

**

“Pose for the camera asshole!”

Daryl looked over just as Glenn took a picture of him with his phone, still chewing on a mouthful of the kimchi pancake that Glenn had made him. He liked it when Glenn made Korean food. It felt like the kid was sharing something special with him. Daryl would've returned the favor, but the last time he brought up squirrel stew Glenn had looked pretty put off. One day he'd change his mind on the subject.

“What the fuck?” Daryl swallowed his food. “Why d'you take a picture of me?”

“I wanna send it to my mom. She doesn't believe that you like Korean food.”

“Wait, you told yer mom about me?”

“No duh, she's always asking about my friends and shit. I told her all about you. Well, the edited version anyway.” Glenn furrowed his brow briefly, then smiled. “There we go. Now she'll have photographic proof that I got a good ol' Southern boy to enjoy Korean food.”

“Yer family sounds strange.” Daryl speared the last bit of bright red, cabbage and radish packed pancake and shoveled it in. It tasted sweet and sour and spicy. The kid really was a hell of a cook. Suddenly, Glenn guffawed.

“Oh my god, she said she was impressed, and that you're cute!”

“What? Lemme see that.” Daryl grabbed Glenn's phone, but the message wasn't in English. Instead all he saw were square and round characters that made no sense to him. He did see the picture Glenn had taken of him in the message bubble above. Cute wasn't the word he would have chosen to describe himself in that picture. As fas as he was concerned he looked kinda dumb, like a deer in the headlights caught with a mouthful of food. 

“She said that she was impressed that you were enjoying the food I cooked, wow that sounds kinda shady, thanks mom, and that you're cute.” Glenn held his hand up. “Swear to God.”

“Whatever, yer mom's crazy obviously.” Daryl picked up his plate and put it in the sink. Despite feeling a little embarrassed, it was weirdly nice to know that Glenn had told his mother about him. 

“Well, yeah, she is, but in a good way.” Glenn was still giggling. “Oh man, sorry, it's just too much.”

Daryl cuffed his shoulder. “Yer crazy too, yer a whole family of crazies.”

“You're one to talk, with your brother trying to set me up with you.” 

“What?” Daryl's eyes widened. “What the fuck are you talkin' 'bout.”

Glenn sighed. “Last week Merle stopped by the restaurant, by the way, Asshole Terry is fucking terrified of him. He bought a soda, and hung around talking to me and crap. He kept dropping hints about me asking you out on a 'proper date, like dinner an' a movie an' shit.'” Glenn attempted to do an imitation of Merle's gravely voice. 

Daryl was mortified. “Oh my God, I cannot believe that asshole. Jesus Christ, I'm sorry.”

“Daryl, it's cool.”

“No it ain't, he shouldn't be hasslin' you like that, it ain't right.” He leaned against the kitchen counter, gripping the edge. Just when things were ok, his dumbass brother had to go and try to fuck it up.

“What if I told you I'd considered it?” Glenn looked up at him with a small smile.

“Askin' me out on a date?” Daryl tried to chuckle. “Aw c'mon, you don't gotta say shit like that.”

“I'm serious.” Glenn bit the corner of his bottom lip. “If I asked you out on a date, would you say yes?”

Daryl didn't answer, instead he opened Glenn's fridge and grabbed a can of grape soda. “Didn't you say that you had some movie you wanted to show me?”

“Yeah, 'Meet The Feebles.'” Glenn looked disappointed at Daryl's non-answer. “It's by the same dude who did 'Dead Alive.' We can watch it if you want.”

Daryl snapped open the can and took a long swallow, the carbonation hurting his esophagus a little. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

The movie was a blessed distraction. Daryl wasn't sure why just the prospect of Glenn asking him out filled him with such panic, but it did. All he could think of was how terrible it would be to screw up the good thing he had with him right now. When the movie ended after the spectacularly violent puppet shoot out, Daryl decided to throw caution to the wind. He'd made a billion bad choices in his life, but this one seemed like a good bad choice.

“I'd say yes.”

“What didya say?” Glenn was putting the DVD back in it's case.

“If you asked me out on a date, I'd say yes.” 

The smile that lit up Glenn's face was the nicest thing Daryl had seen in a long time. “Well...do you wanna? Go on a date with me?”

“Yeah.” Daryl squeezed the empty can of soda in his hand, making the aluminum crackle. 

“You know, technically, tonight could count as a date.” Glenn slid the case back into it's spot on the shelves by his TV. “I mean, it's a real casual one obviously, but I think it counts.”

“Uh, yeah. Yer right. You did make me dinner.” Daryl put the can down, and chewed on his thumbnail. He didn't quite comprehend that they were having this conversation. It felt like something he'd dreamed up. 

“Ok, then I'm retroactively declaring this a date. You can tell your brother to lay off.” Glenn laughed and plopped down on the couch next to Daryl. “Not that that was the only reason I asked you.”

“Oh?” Daryl bit off a piece of torn cuticle from his thumb. 

“Yeah...Daryl...how come you never asked me to go out with you, or made a pass at me before?” Glenn looked at him with curiosity. 

“Well, uhm, I figured you wouldn't be interested.”

“Why did you figure that?” Glenn reached up and stroked Daryl's arm. The redneck moved closer.

“Oh c'mon, kid. Look at me. Look at my brother. I didn't want to subject you to all of that.”

“Yeah. Honestly, the only reason I didn't ask you earlier was because of him. I mean, I thought you were way hot when I first met you.” Glenn tugged at his shirt, and Daryl slumped down closer to him. “But I wasn't sure about trying to flirt with you because, you know, racist family members tend to kill my boners.”

“I don't blame you for that one.” Daryl looked at Glenn's lips. They always looked so nice, and were rarely chapped. The redneck wondered what kind of lip balm he used, cause it looked like it did wonders.

“But now, well, I know you're ok, and not like your brother at all, so it's like, why not? Why don't we do that?” 

“You got a point there.” Daryl wondered if he should ask Glenn if he could kiss him, or if he should just go for it. 

“Daryl.” Their shoulders were pressing together now. The younger man felt warm like a hot water bottle.

“Yeah?”

“I think this could be one of those dates where we end up making out. So if you want to-” the last part of the sentence was muffled by Daryl's lips covering Glenn's. It was both a relief and a thrill, because before he knew it Glenn was kissing him back, and both their hands were in each other's hair. 

“Thank God,” Glenn got out between the hot, hungry kisses they were exchanging, “I thought I was gonna lose it if you didn't kiss me already.” The next kiss he gave involved his tongue slipping into the redneck's mouth, and Daryl sighed. It felt good, not just because it was a pleasure to feel Glenn's lips and tongue, but because he knew for a fact that Glenn cared about him beyond this kiss. 

The kissing was frantic at first, all the tension and held back desire spilling out between them. Glenn kept biting at his lips, and Daryl did the same to him. Then the kisses got slower, more languid, and their hands went from stroking each other's faces to stroking each other's limbs. Daryl's hands ended up resting on the small of Glenn's back, and the younger man pulled away for a second.

“You taste like grape soda. I'm never gonna be able to drink that stuff again without thinking of making out with you.”

“Does that mean yer gonna get a hard-on every time you see a can or a bottle of Grape Crush?” Daryl nodded down towards Glenn's crotch. 

“Totally.” Glenn tried to move away a little, as to not let his hard-on press against Daryl, but the older man held him still. “We don't have to do more than kissing, that's just got a mind of its own right now.” The younger man murmured before placing a small kiss on his lips.

“What if I wanna do more than just kiss?” Daryl's voice was low and rumbly, like a purr, and for the first time in months, he wanted to be touched. After being assaulted, he'd felt no desire to be touched, except for hugs from Glenn. The counseling at the clinic had helped some, but for a while now he hadn't even thought about that kind of thing. But Glenn cared about him, and Daryl knew he wouldn't hurt him. That safety was more arousing than anything else.

Glenn gave him a crooked grin. “What did you have in mind, you redneck sex-fiend?”

Daryl laughed at the insult. At least that wasn't changing, even though they were entangled on the couch. “Oh kid, do you really wanna know what kinds of things I have in mind involving you? It might just make yer hair turn white.”

The younger man kept grinning. “I think we should take it to the bedroom then.”

“Couch is fine.” Daryl licked his thin neck. Glenn's skin tasted as good as he thought it would. 

“I like to receive company on this couch. If we screw around on it, I won't ever be able to look at it without blushing.” Glenn stood up and hauled Daryl up with him. “C'mon, bed.”

“Alright, alright, yer the host.” Walking to the bedroom proved to be a bit of a challenge as the redneck kept grabbing Glenn and pushing him against the wall to kiss and grind up on him. Daryl hadn't had any kind of sexual contact since...well, he didn't want to count that time. It hadn't been sex. Sex was nice. Sex was two people both on the same page. What Blake had done to him was not that at all. And as far as what he'd done with Shane, that was in the past. It still hurt from time to time, but right now it didn't.

Eventually, Glenn got him on his bed. It took up the majority of the small bedroom, and was very comfortable, even with Glenn on top of him squishing him down into the mattress. The kissing continued, this time accompanied by grinding hips and muffled gasps when their cocks rubbed up against each other. Daryl was feeling frantic again, and wasn't sure what he wanted next. All he knew was that he wanted Glenn, and Glenn wanted him, and that they loved each other as friends, and maybe as something more.

That realization made him pause. “Glenn, if we do this, do we still get to be friends?”

Glenn looked him in eye. “Of course it does. Daryl, you're my friend, and-” he took a deep breath, “I want you to be my boyfriend. I still wanna do all the stupid shit we already do, but when people ask me about it, I wanna be able to say the person I did it with was my boyfriend. Is that cool? I mean, it sounds a little heavy, but-”

Daryl kissed him quiet. “I'm yer boyfriend dumbass. All you had to do was ask.” It still felt all too unreal for the moment, like this was just one of his many daydreams about how this scenario would play out. “Now, you better fuck yer boyfriend before he cums in his damn skivvies.”

Glenn laughed. “Ok, boyfriend.” He took off his t-shirt with a little trepidation, this was all happening so much and so fast, but he sure as hell didn't want to slow down. It felt natural, like this was the next logical step for them. 

Daryl's hands stroked his chest. Glenn barely had any hair, and he was skinny as all get out, and he was perfect. The redneck couldn't stop smiling as he touched the man he'd kept in the back of his heart for so long. Glenn tugged at Daryl's shirt, pulling it off of him. He already knew about the scars. Daryl had told him all about them, so he had nothing to hide from him. 

They kept undressing, clothes peeled away as their hands roamed. Daryl took Glenn's cock in his hand. It was like the rest of him, perfect. In the darkness of the bedroom, he could only see with his hand, but just from touching it he could tell it was as beautiful as the rest of Glenn. He stroked it, and the younger man started to make sweet, needy noises. When his hand got hold of Daryl's cock, the redneck made the same noises. They didn't progress much further, their hands bringing each other to completion while they kissed and sighed. Daryl managed to get Glenn to cum first, and the way the younger man sounded when he came was beautiful. The redneck's heart felt so good, the pain it had gone through fading further into memory. 

Despite being woozy from coming, Glenn worked Daryl in and through a very satisfying orgasm. He had very capable hands, and Daryl felt safe underneath them. This wasn't as rough and as desperate as it had been with Shane, but it didn't have to be, because he knew that tomorrow morning Glenn would still love him like crazy and want him to stick around.

“Oh God, Daryl,” Glenn kept nuzzling and kissing him, “I wanna do this with you all the time. I wanna do so much with you.” 

The redneck unwound in his arms. Glenn wasn't giving him crumbs. He was offering him a feast. As overwhelming as it was, and unnerving, Daryl was happy. 

“You better rest up, cause I'm gonna want to go 'nother round sooner than later.” Daryl murmured, stroking his smooth chest. “I wanna do this all night.”

Glenn made a soft, approving noise. “That sounds perfect.” He reached over to the lamp by his bed and clicked it on. “But this time we need to have the light on. I wanna see exactly what your face looks likes when you cum.” 

“Jesus Christ.” Daryl shook his head and smiled. For all his worrying, this felt so simple. “That might be a giant boner-killer fer ya.” 

“Oh my god Daryl, shut the fuck up.” Glenn smacked his arm. “You talk so much shit about yourself it's not even funny.”

The older man wrapped his arms around Glenn and nuzzled his shoulder. “Sorry, it's just my way.” 

“Yeah, well, you're talking shit about someone I love so I'm gonna have to kick your ass if you keep it up.”

Daryl just smiled, and let those words wrap around his brain. “Hold on a second.” He got up and rummaged through the clothes on the floor.

“What's up?” Glenn asked.

“Just wanna text Merle and let him know I'm not comin' home tonight.” Daryl found his phone and punched in the message to his brother before getting back in bed with Glenn.

'Stayin the night at Glenn's' Now there were some sweet words.

“Maybe now he'll stop hassling me about dating you.” 

“He's just weird about my well-being.” Daryl snuggled up to Glenn. “He actually kinda likes you. He told me yer alright by him. Trust me, that's high praise comin' from him.”

“Wow, that's something.” Glenn pressed a kiss to the redneck's forehead, running his fingers through Daryl's hair. “This feels good.”

“Yeah.” The older man sighed, his hand sliding down Glenn's body. “Bet I can make it feel even better though.”

“Already ready to go again huh?” Glenn's voice turned a little breathy as Daryl's palm caressed his cock slowly.

“Well yer mighty inspirin'.” Daryl gave him a sly grin. “Howsabout this time we take it a little further?” 

“You read my mind. What do you wanna do?” 

Daryl was at a loss for a minute. Actually being asked what he wanted to do was so unusual that for a moment he couldn't think of what he wanted to do. He wanted to do so much with Glenn that the choices were overwhelming.

“I wanna suck yer cock. Want me to do that?” Yes, that was a good choice. 

“Oh God yeah.” Glenn kissed him deep, his tongue sliding into his mouth again, before Daryl inched down his body and settled by his cock. It was getting hard again from his touches, and the redneck took a moment to admire it. Glenn wasn't huge, but it was definitely a little above average. The organ was a shade or two darker than the rest of his skin, framed by fluffy black pubic hair. He began by kissing it softly, trying to convince it to get up again. Glenn seemed to like that, because he kept sighing and moving his hips a little. When Daryl took his cock in his mouth and began to suck, the younger man groaned.

“Oh my God, you're so good.”

Daryl would have grinned had he not been taking Glenn's cock down his throat. He kept it up, pulling out his favorite tricks to perform on Glenn, like moving his tongue flat in zig-zags as he worked his way up and then down it, and pausing from time to time to suck on he tendon on the underside of the head. That one really got Glenn going, because the younger man just kept grabbing at his arms and letting out little moans.

“Fuck, Daryl, kiss me, please, need to kiss you.” Daryl crawled back up and gave him what he wanted, grinding against his spit-slick cock as he did. He wasn't used to guys wanting to kiss him in the middle of blowjobs, but it was definitely something he could get used to. 

“Oh God Daryl I wanna suck your cock too. Get on top of me? I wanna do it while you suck me.” Glenn sounded so desperate for him. 

“Who am I to refuse.” Daryl shifted so he was straddling the younger man's chest with his head facing downwards. As soon as he'd settled into that position, Glenn had his cock in his mouth, and was sucking at it furiously.

“Fuck!” Daryl let out a gasp of surprise and pleasure. The younger man was enthusiastic, pulling his hips back so he could take more of his cock in his mouth. His lips felt good on the redneck's cock, and he kept moaning around it. Those vibrations coursed through it, making Daryl quiver. 

“Woulda never pegged ya as a cockslut.” Daryl leaned forward and went back to giving Glenn's cock slow, teasing licks. 

Glenn pulled away from Daryl's cock for a second. “You have no idea.” As he spoke he kept licking it between words. “I fucking love giving head.” His tongue dragged across Daryl's balls, slow and wet. “Could do this all day.”

“Mmm,” Daryl sloppily licked the head of the younger man's cock. “I think yer a keeper.” Those were the last words he said out loud, as he decided he'd prefer to have his mouth full of Glenn's cock rather than talk. Being sucked while sucking added another ecstatic layer to it, and the younger man kept stroking his hips, his ass, his thighs. His touches were passionate, going from stroking to squeezing his flesh, but full of tenderness. 

'I could get used to this.' Daryl thought as he lapped drops of precum from Glenn's cock. 'This boy's gonna spoil me for anyone else.'

When Glenn tensed and began letting out little shaky moans around Daryl's cock, the redneck held onto him tight. When the gush of warm, salty-bitter fluid flooded his mouth, he swallowed without thinking. When he tried to get off of Glenn, the younger man held him still and took his cock down to the root. Daryl could only surrender to it all, too dazed and too dreamy-feeling to question anything that had just happened. His friend, his boyfriend, Glenn was both, and it was perfect. It was sudden, but it was right. 

He came whimpering out Glenn's name and gripping his slender thighs. The temptation to say “I love you” was great, but Daryl wanted to save that for later. He didn't want to have it just slip out in this moment. Glenn deserved to be told that kind of thing with some ceremony or something. Maybe with flowers, or under the stars, something romantic for Christ's sakes. He wanted to do it in a way that would show exactly how he felt, with nothing held back.

When he finally tumbled off of Glenn, they laid head-to-thigh for a while, too lazy to change positions. They didn't speak, instead just held hands and relaxed into an easy silence. That silence was only interrupted by the beep of Daryl's phone. The redneck didn't bother answering it, because it would mean getting up and away from the beautiful man laying next to him. It wasn't until the next morning, when he woke up being spooning with Glenn that he bothered to check it. It was a message from Merle.

“DONT LET THAT BOY RAW YOU PICK UP BEER ON YR WAY HOME”

His laughing woke Glenn up. For the first time in months, he could honestly say he felt happy.


	13. Epilogue

July brought carnival and county fair season to town. It also brought the joy of having to monitor said events. It wasn't a difficult job, all you had to do was walk around the grounds and make sure everyone was safe, but it was distracting, and the combination of the heat and the crowds could be exhausting. Shane didn't mind, it was better than doing paperwork anyway. Rick was on duty with him that night at least, and he made for good company, despite the fact that he was stressed about his divorce.

As far as Shane knew, it was an amiable thing, with Lori and Rick working through it together for the sake of Carl, but it's never fun to end a relationship like that. It was weird, because Rick kept asking him pointers for dating. He kept saying he'd been out of the dating pool for so long, he needed to learn how to swim in it again. Shane joked that the only single people he knew right now were men who were looking for other men, and Rick had actually said that it sounded like an decent option. Shane had been shocked at Rick mused over it out loud, and actually said that maybe he should try it out, as he'd never done it before and for all he knew, he could really enjoy being with another man. Shane still wasn't sure if he'd been kidding or not. If he hadn't been kidding, that would make for a hell of a surprise. 

The deputy wandered through the concessions, the smells of popcorn, sugar, and fried foods cloying in the early evening heat. His eyes wandered over the crowds, and were stopped dead in their tracks. A familiar figure was standing by the fancy photobooths, the ones where you could take a picture and it would come out with loads of illustrations and little figures around them. He was shaggier looking, but he was unmistakable. He was looking down at some pictures with another man. Shane thought he recognized him too, but he couldn't remember from where. 

The familiar figure looked up and saw him. Shane wasn't sure what to do, but the other man smiled at him, and actually waved. Shane walked over, not sure what to say except:

“Hey Daryl, nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too Officer Walsh.” The redneck grinned at him. “You remember Officer Walsh, right Glenn?” He turned to the skinny Asian man wearing a sleeveless plaid shirt over a shirt that had a pretty creepy zombie head on it and the words “We Are Going To Eat You” screenprinted on it. The plaid shirt looked at least a size too big, and obviously had been Daryl's at some point.

“Yeah, I remember. Last year, at the Magnolia.” Glenn held out his hand. “How're you doing Officer.”

Shane shook his hand, and he was gripped by a sense of bittersweetness, because he did remember that night. He remembered holding Daryl's hand, even though he'd been afraid to do it, while they watched that cheesy movie. “I'm fine, just making sure everyone's safe.”

“Cool.” Glenn turned to Daryl. “I'm gonna get an Icee, you want one hon?”

“Yeah, get me a red one.” Daryl leaned in and kissed Glenn on the cheek. “Thanks babe, I'll meet you there.”

“Ok, it was nice seeing you again!” Glenn scurried away, leaving the two men standing by the photobooth.

“So...how are you doing?” 

“I'm doin' fine. Real fine.” Daryl did look fine. He looked happy. The bags under his eyes weren't as prominent, and he looked less furrowed and worried. 

“Good!” Shane felt awkward all of a sudden. “That's great to hear. So, uh, you and Glenn?”

“Yep, almost been a year now. We're plannin' on drivin' up to Michigan next month to visit his folks. Last Christmas they came down here to visit, so we owe them one.”

“That sounds great.” It was, but Shane felt a sharp feeling of regret. He'd had a chance to have something like that with Daryl, but he'd made the choice not to. It was hard not to feel weird about it, especially when Daryl was looking so happy and handsome in the carnival lights.

“Yep. He's pretty amazin'.” Daryl looked off in the direction of the concession stand that was selling beverages. His voice was full of affection. “I should go catch up to him. It was nice seein' you though.”

“Yeah, you too.” Shane bit his cheek. “Listen, Daryl, I need to apologize to you.”

Daryl shrugged, and tucked a stray lock of his shaggy hair back behind his ear. “No need to, what happened happened.”

“No, not about that. Well, yeah, about that, but also...about that night at the motel.” Shane sighed. “I said some fucked up things to you that I regret. I made it sound like what happened was your fault, and that was wrong. What happened wasn't your fault. I'm sorry Daryl.”

The redneck looked at him with amazement. “Wow...thanks. I accept yer apology.”

“Look, I've kept you long enough, I gotta get back to my patrol. Have a good night, tell Glenn I said bye.” 

“Sure thing.” Daryl hesitated, then gave him a quick hug. “Thanks Shane.”

The deputy clapped his back and waved him off. He watched Daryl jog over to where Glenn was standing with their drinks, taking one of the Icee cups away from him and telling him something that made the younger man smile. The love between them was obvious, making passersby stare a little, some in disgust, others in sympathy. No matter what they thought, you couldn't deny that they made a nice, albeit strange, couple. 

Shane continued his patrol of the carnival. The night air was getting a little cooler, and above he could make out some of the stars despite the neon and electric lights of the rides. He could hear the yells of children and adults as they rode on the Pirate Ship, and the Tilt-A-Whirl. Happiness was the order of the night, and despite the bittersweetness in his heart, Shane couldn't turn a blind eye to it.


End file.
